


Psyche And Sound

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-18
Updated: 2006-05-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:38:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8087629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: A chance encounter with one of the planet's local life forms turns a simple surface survey into something more for Trip and the rest of the crew.





	1. Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: This is set roughly around early Season Two.  


* * *

"And how was I s'pposed to know that?! It's not that I can read minds or anythin' here!"

With that parting shot, Commander Charles 'Trip' Tucker III stalked away, livid, wishing that he was anywhere else but on the surface with the infuriating Vulcan. And to think that he was the one who'd asked for an opportunity to participate in this survey mission of the planet's surface just a few short hours ago. Well, at least now he knew the reason for that odd expression that had flashed briefly on the Captain's face before he'd agreed to the request.

Without moving from beside the trees that she'd been studying before the disagreement broke out, T'Pol looked at the Chief Engineer's fast disappearing figure, her delicate features betraying none of what she was thinking. There was no question about it. That man was undoubtedly the most emotional, annoying and impossible, not to mention illogical, being she had ever come across. She suspected that she was in for a lot of meditation time when they got back to the Enterprise this evening.

Turning determinedly back to the plant life before her, T'Pol continued with her scans, while trying her best to not waste any more time thinking about her exasperating companion. It was initially easier said than done but the different sentient life forms on the surface helped. They were proving to be an interesting study, in addition to the surface gravity of the planet, which was curiously weaker, although not by much, than the ones of Earth or on Vulcan.

Occasionally making brief notes of the relevant results, T'Pol was about finished with her preliminary scans when a soft cry reached her ears. Immediately identifying it as the Commander's, the young Science Officer hurried towards where it had come from and found him seated on the ground beside Shuttlepod One, appearing more than a little dazed. Crouching down beside him, she immediately ran a bioscan, looking him over.

"What happened, Commander? Are you injured?"

At T'Pol's question, Trip focused his eyes on her face and recoiled involuntarily in reaction. There were two of her! One was enough to drive him crazy at times, what was he going to do with two Vulcans running around the ship?! Before he could backpedal away, T'Pol and her twin slowly merged, becoming one once more. He stared at her speechlessly, momentarily bemused by how real everything had looked and felt.

"Commander? Are you all right?"

Trip was still trying to make sense of what just happened when her voice penetrated the sea of confusion that he'd fallen into. Blinking, he focused bewildered eyes on her.

"I... I don't know," he shook his head. "This... flash of gold... It jus' flew out of t'bushes an' stung me in the arm. I think it was a... a bug."

She raised an eyebrow at his answer and slowly sat back on her haunches. "You were attacked by an insect?"

Although her voice was in its usual unemotional tone, his temper somehow flared up all over again at her question.

"It was a huge bug, al'right?" Trip said defensively, a slight flush reddening his cheeks as he rolled up his cuff, showing her the distinctive angry welt that was on his wrist. "Look!"

Studying the swelling for a moment, T'Pol arched an eyebrow once again but made no other comment. Standing up slowly, she scrutinised him with a level gaze.

"We shall return to Enterprise at once."

"What! Why? We're not done yet," he protested, waving a hand at the nearby foliage. "There's still half o' the area left!"

"We can always return later to complete the scans. You need to allow Doctor Phlox to take a look at that wound. Since we still do not know much about the fauna on this planet, that sting might have adverse consequences on the human physiology."

Trip got to his feet as well, brushing off the leaves that still clung to his uniform.

"Look," he muttered darkly, glaring at the Vulcan. "I'm fine."

"You are being unreasonable."

Trip scowled at T'Pol quietly spoken comment, watching silently while she contacted and briefed the other two members of the Science Department who were currently conducting their scans on the other side of the forest. He knew that she was right but a small part of him rebelled against agreeing with her.

The very last thing that he needed right now was another visit to Sickbay. He'd already spent more time there than he liked, too much time, in his opinion. So what if he was currently having a headache? It wasn't like he hadn't had one of those before.

Trying his best to ignore the throbbing, he reiterated stubbornly, his accent suddenly more pronounced whilst he grounded out the words through gritted teeth, "I'm tellin' ya, I'm fine."

Before he could voice the rest of his thoughts, which were mainly about overcautious scientists, the pounding ache abruptly intensified. It was excruciating, as if white-hot razor-sharp nails were currently being pounded into his head. Caught off guard by the blinding pain, he bit back a moan while he closed his eyes, waiting for it to pass.

It didn't.

"You do not look fine, Commander," T'Pol countered evenly, watching him sway a little on his feet, one hand rubbing absently at his temple.

He didn't reply; all of his energy was currently focused on his rapidly escalating headache. Raising the other hand to his head when another wave of dizziness assailed him, Trip looked up at his crewmate, his face ashen. Maybe returning to the ship right now wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"You know what, T'Pol?" he said with some effort, his words slurring. "I think yer might be right 'bout goin' back..."

She watched, alarm passing briefly behind her eyes, as Tucker fell heavily back to the ground; his voice was barely a whisper at the end of his final sentence. By the time she reached his side, the engineer was curled up in a foetal position with his head half-covered by one arm, eyes closed. She quickly felt for a pulse, relieved to find a steady, albeit weak, one. Pulling out her communicator, she flipped it open.

"T'Pol to Enterprise."

"Sub-Commander!" Archer's reply came back almost right away, his voice abnormally loud in the enveloping silence of the forest. "How's everything down there?"

"I am afraid that Commander Tucker has suddenly been taken ill. We are returning to Enterprise now."

There was a heartbeat of a pause before the Captain responded tersely, his concern obvious in his voice, "Phlox and his team will be waiting when you both get back here. Archer out."

On the NX-01, the bridge crew exchanged worried looks while the ship's Chief Medical Officer was promptly informed about the incoming medical emergency.

* * *

"This is most regrettable," a hooded figure remarked softly to his companion as they tracked the progress of the small spacecraft into the afternoon sky with troubled eyes.

"We were too late! What should we do now?" the younger of the two asked anxiously, one hand shading his from the sun's glare. He was similarly attired, the colour of his robe blending in perfectly with the surrounding environment.

"We wait."

"But, Master Koâ€“"

A raised hand stopped his protest in mid-sentence. He quietened and bowed respectfully at the other man.

"Be patient, young Taelek. The right time will come."

"But, Master Koerin... What if... what if it is too late?"

The old man glanced at his youthful apprentice for a moment before gazing back up at the sky. The small craft was now a white speck against the dark blue hue. The tiny dot soon passed through the planet's atmosphere, vanishing into the space beyond. He sighed. Most regrettable indeed...

The elder's voice was low when he finally answered, his tone resigned, "Then, nothing will save that young man. He will die."

* * *

"How do you feel, Commander?"

"Jus' peachy, Doc," Trip mumbled. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, inwardly apologising to the good doctor for his gruff tone. It was an automatic response caused by the fact that he was more than a little grumpy to find out that, despite his best efforts, here he was again, back in Sickbay. Making sure that he kept his head still, he sat up slowly from the biobed, grimacing a little when the throbbing in his head increased marginally.

Sensing the young engineer's discomfort, Phlox filled a hypospray and injected the contents into the side of the patient's neck. Trip flashed him a grateful look when the severe pain gradually subsided into a dull throb.

"Thanks, Doc."

"You're welcome, Commander. Are you sure that you feel all right? You've been unconscious for more than three hours."

Trip gave a sluggish nod, his eyes never leaving his bare feet while he studiously avoided the gazes of the people who were standing around him.

"What was wrong with me?" he asked at last.

"You suffered an allergic reaction to whatever bit you down at the planet," the doctor answered with his usual enthusiasm. "I've given you an anti- toxin to counteract the venom so you should be feeling quite all right soon enough."

"What happened down there?"

That was from Archer, who till now, had stood silently at the foot of the biobed. Considering the question for a moment, Trip finally looked up at his commanding officer and best friend.

"I dunno, Cap'n," he shrugged. "I was jus' goin' to get somethin' from the 'Pod when this... um... bug..., I think, flew out of the bushes and headed straight at me. I raised my arm to stop it from hittin' me directly in the face..."

"And it stung you in the wrist instead..." Archer finished, looking down at Trip's arm.

"Yeah..."

Following the Captain's gaze, Trip also studied the ugly welt on his right wrist. It'd started to blister, causing the area around it to turn red and contrast starkly with the rest of his skin. Touching the injured area gingerly with one finger, he took a deep breath and then continued, "I felt woozy after that. The next thing I knew, I was back here."

"For that, you can thank the Sub-Commander for her quick response," Phlox spoke up cheerfully. "You were already convulsing by the time she got you back here. We managed to get you stabilised just in time."

At the doctor's revelation, the engineer's head snapped up, grateful blue eyes encountering tranquil brown ones. T'Pol met his stare without any change in expression whatsoever as she waited for his next move.

"Thanks," Trip whispered after a time, still holding her gaze.

With a graceful dip of her head, T'Pol replied, "You are welcome."


	2. Developments

When it happened the following night, just as he was passing Hoshi at the corridor, it took Trip completely by surprise. Pleased that he was finally released from Sickbay, the engineer was in high spirits as he headed for the turbolift. It'd be good to sleep in his quarters and on his own bed tonight. He might even pay a visit to the Mess Hall for a light supper before he turned in for the night. With some luck, there would be a slice of pecan pie left, just waiting for him.

"Night, Commander."

Trip returned the ensign's smile with one of his own. "Night, Hoâ€“"

:: _flash_ ::

Clear blue eyes widening, Trip froze in mid-stride, jaw suddenly going slack. _What the...?_

Hoshi frowned, her own steps faltering as she caught sight of the odd expression on Tucker's face.

"Commander? What is it?" she asked hesitantly after a while when he didn't move. Trip was staring at her like he'd never seen her before. She eyeballed him nervously, ignoring the strong urge to go find a mirror right now and look into it. What was it? Did she forget to zip up her uniform or something?

"Commander Tucker?" Hoshi tried again, this time in a louder voice. The Chief Engineer's peculiar immobility was starting to creep her out. "Trip?"

"Hmmm?"

Glad to see that a certain measure of awareness was slowly returning to his eyes, Hoshi took a step closer, relieved that the man was finally snapping out of whatever strange stupor he seemed to have fallen into.

"Are you all right?"

Realising with a start that he'd been staring blankly at her for the past few seconds, Trip flushed in embarrassment as he ducked his head, eyes quickly flickering away.

"Yes... sorry," he mumbled to a spot on the floor.

Hoshi frowned, unconvinced. The Commander suddenly looked terrible; his face was colourless except for the twin slashes of red on his cheeks.

"Are you sure?" she asked softly, putting a hand on his arm. "You look like you've just seen a ghost or something."

"No, no," he quickly assured her, trying to smile but only managing a pained grimace. "I'm okay, jus' got a lil' caught off guard back there."

"What do you mean?"

Trip shook his head, anxious to get away from further unwanted questions. He flashed her another shaky smile. "It's nothin' ... really. Havin' a splitting headache, that's all. I... err... I guess I'm more exhausted than I thought. Um... g'night, Hoshi."

Without waiting for a reply, he continued down the corridor in wide strides, leaving one very confused, and extremely worried, ensign staring after him.

* * *

Travis and Hoshi spotted him the moment he walked in for a late lunch two days later.

"Hey, Commander!" Travis waved, gesturing to him to come over to their table.

Acknowledging their invitation with a wave of his own, Trip headed for the food counters, and peered hungrily at the choices available for the day. Quickly placing the plate of fried catfish on his tray, he also grabbed a generous slice of pecan pie before heading over to where the ensigns were seated.

"How are you, Sir?" Travis greeted the moment he sat down.

"Never better, Travis," Trip answered as he picked up his fork. "Thanks."

After being ordered to rest following his little incident, and practically doing nothing the following day, Trip was more than glad to be given the opportunity to accompany T'Pol and the rest of the Science Department down to the surface of the planet early this morning to complete the science survey.

In light of what happened the last time they were on the surface of the planet, it was no surprise that Malcolm had insisted on coming along. Despite the Tactical Officer's extra precautions however, nothing particularly unusual happened, unless you could count the Lieutenant almost dunking himself in a stream as one.

Remembering the incident, Trip couldn't help but smile. Once the last of the surface scans were completed, the three of them had taken some time to explore the nearby areas. They soon came upon an unusual gold-coloured plant beside the nearby stream. 

Phlox was extremely intrigued by their initial report on it and had requested a sample for study. As it turned out, the request was easier said that done. The plant had clung to the ground, stubbornly resisting all of their efforts to pull it out.

In the end, frustrated beyond words, Malcolm had grabbed the stalk with both hands, pulling at it with all his might. Suddenly, without warning, the roots gave way and the plant popped out of the ground, almost sending the Lieutenant straight into the water. Only T'Pol's quick reaction had stopped him from taking an impromptu bath right there and then.

The corners of Trip's mouth lifted a little more. If only he had his camera with him. The look on Malcolm's face was priceless. An opportunity too good to be missed, he'd teased the Lieutenant mercilessly on their way back, only stopping when the affronted officer had threatened to seriously shoot him if he were to mention the incident once more.

What was more interesting was the amusement that he'd sworn had danced briefly in T'Pol's eyes at the whole exchange. It seemed impossible, especially with the impassive look that she'd given him, with one eyebrow eloquently raised, a moment later. Perhaps it was only his imagination but for a split second there, Trip was almost sure that there was a sparkle in her unblinking gaze.

"So, did you find anything interesting down on the planet this morning?"

Hoshi's question cut his musings short and Trip nodded, forking another slice of fish. He looked up, about to answer her when it happened...

:: _... pie looks... wonder... time... dessert?_ ::

Flinching slightly at the accompanying pain to his head, Trip froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. _Huh? Now that was new..._

"Commander?"

Hoshi frowned when the Chief Engineer did not respond to Travis's call. It reminded her too much of what happened two nights ago. Only this time, instead of just standing there gaping at her, he had a piece of catfish dangling on a raised fork as he stared vacantly into space.

"Commander Tucker? ... Sir?"

When he still didn't respond to Travis's call, Hoshi reached across the table and tapped him lightly on the arm. At her touch, Trip looked bemusedly down at her hand and then up at her, his brows drawn together in a frown. 

"Hmmm? ... What?"

"What's wrong?" the linguist asked, a frown of her own marring the smoothness of her brow.

Trip shook his head, suddenly aware of their concern and obvious unease. With a grimace, he put down his catfish-burdened fork. "Sorry, got a lil' distracted jus' now."

"Are you sure?" Hoshi asked dubiously. "You were kinda out of it for a while there."

The Commander nodded absentmindedly, picking up his discarded eating utensil. He cleared his throat, suddenly aware that it was slightly sore. "I'm fine."

With that succinct reply, Trip resolutely turned back to his meal. Hoshi and Travis exchanged a look above their companion's bent head. Tucker had obviously considered the matter closed and they knew from personal experience how atrociously difficult it was to get him to talk about something unless he wanted to discuss it in the first place.

For someone so amicable and friendly, Trip could be very closed-mouthed when he wanted to be. So far, only the Captain and, sometimes Malcolm, have succeeded in accomplishing the virtually impossible task of getting the Commander to talk about whatever that was troubling him during those times. With a shrug, Travis raised his eyebrows at Hoshi in silent comment before returning to the food on his plate.

Taking her cue from her fellow ensign, Hoshi did the same, although she was still very much disturbed by the Commander's uncharacteristic behaviour. However, the Helm Officer's next comment managed to distract her from thinking about it further as she turned her attention to his light teasing. With a grin, she responded in kind. It wasn't long before they resumed easy banter, their laughter becoming part of the general hum of voices in the Mess Hall.

On his side of the table, and only half listening to the conversation around him, Trip wondered if it was time that he talked to someone about what happening to him. As far as he could tell, things had pretty much gone back to normal since the incident down at the planet four days ago. 

_Well, almost normal,_ he quickly corrected himself, a sardonic smile touching his lips briefly. Absently rubbing the spot on his wrist, he pondered the unsettling experience he'd just had. The physical reminder of the insect bite may be gone, it'd subsided by the following night, but the after-effects of the sting were apparently still there.

Ever since that damn insect had bitten him, he'd been experiencing some unusual... visions, for the lack of a better term. When he'd met Hoshi two nights ago, an image of an unmistakably feminine undergarment had burst into his mind. Rendered speechless by it, he'd stood there staring at her until she'd asked him what was wrong. 

Freaked out by the whole incident, he'd tried to justify what had just happened, telling himself that there had to be some sort of logical explanation to it. Maybe he'd hit his head a lot harder than he thought. Or perhaps it was just a delayed effect of the concussion he had to be suffering from.

Wiser from experience, he knew now that he'd read her mind when they'd met that night, although not so much in her actual words but in images. Ever since that first encounter, however, there had been random pictures from the people around him, each at odd times. He'd even inadvertently responded to one, forgetting that the question had not come verbally.

_"What did you just say, Commander?" Ensign Almack asked slowly, giving his superior officer a strange look._

_"What? Oh... that you should ask Hayes to Movie Night next Tuesday," Trip repeated with a distracted nod, his attention still on the schematics in front of him._

_"I'm sorry, Sir, but how did you know that I was just thinking about whether I should or not?"_

He'd frozen for a second there, realising too late what he'd just said. When the image had popped into his mind, he'd replied to it without thinking. It took some really fast talking, but he finally convinced the man that the comment he'd made was purely coincidental. A close call, and not something that he'd like to repeat any time soon.

Another of those images had come from Malcolm, when the Armoury Officer had stopped by to enquire about his health last night. Until now, the reason why the Lieutenant was thinking of a winged monkey with a briefcase clutched in one brown paw eluded him. Trip frowned slightly at the memory of that strange image. _One day, I'm gonna have to have a long, serious talk with that man..._

After his first experience, it'd taken him almost a day to get past his initial fright and surprise. Though still spooked by what was happening, he'd calmed down somewhat once he had accepted the fact that he was somehow receiving other people's thoughts. Acceptance, however, didn't help make things any less bizarre.

Looking back on the last couple of days, Trip gave an inward sigh, remembering the countless number of times that he'd stood outside Archer's door, his hand hovering unsteadily above the door chime. Each time, he'd walked away without pressing the button. He'd even made it as far as the doors of Sickbay a couple of times but had turned away at the last second as well. Come to think of it, the only time he'd had some degree of peace was the whole of this morning, when he was down on the planet's surface with T'Pol, Malcolm and the rest of the Science team.

"And then she yelled..."

Travis's voice broke into his thoughts and Trip looked up, smiling as he caught part of the anecdote. The young helmsman was regaling Hoshi with an amusing story of his days in the Academy. He listened for a while before staring back down at his food, his smile fading. The latest development had him equally fascinated and worried.

Unless he was sorely mistaken, that was Travis's voice in his head just now. He wasn't completely certain but he suspected that he might have just progressed from images to actual words. The only problem so far in this was that the slight headache that seemed to accompany each of these flashes was suddenly not so slight anymore. In fact, this current one was downright excruciating.

Rubbing his aching temple with one hand, the engineer silently considered his options. In the end, he decided to not say anything to anyone for the moment. For one, he wasn't looking forward to being cooped up in Sickbay once again while the Doc searched for a cure. That could take days, weeks even. There was also the slight problem of explaining something he himself had a problem understanding to someone else. He could just imagine the conversation...

_Hey, Doc. I was wonderin' if you had anything for strange pictures that I've been havin' recently? ... What? ... No! Not those kind of pictures! ... No, I can't control when I get them. They just kinda appear every now and then. ... What kind? ... Well, they range from sexy lingerie to flying monkeys in business suits. ... Oh, did I forget t'mention that lately, I've been gettin' voices as well. ... What are they sayin'? ... I think one was 'bout Chef's pecan pie. ... Wait a minute, whatcha doin'? ... What? No, I'm tellin' ya, I don't need any psychological tests or evaluations...!_

Trip grimaced into his plate. That was definitely a dialogue he wasn't looking forward to having with anyone, let alone someone with the authority to recommend committal into a psychiatric institution. Besides, he argued silently with himself, all of it might go away by itself soon enough. If there was one thing that he was certain about all this, it would be that being restricted to bed rest while Phlox looked for the right answers was something he didn't have the time for. Not with the amount of work that he had on his hands right now.

Closing his eyes, Trip took a deep breath. His head was pounding considerably by now, and he hardly tasted the pie as he quickly finished up the dessert. Gulping down the rest of his drink, he made the appropriate excuses and hurried out without a backward glance.

Still seated at the table, Hoshi and Travis watched him go, their half-finished meal momentarily forgotten. As soon as the Chief Engineer was out of sight, Hoshi turned worriedly to her eating companion, "Something's very wrong, Travis. He was really preoccupied for a moment there. And did you see how pale his face was? That was almost exactly what happened two nights ago. Do you think he's all right?"

Mayweather considered her question and then shrugged lightly, "I don't know, Hoshi. But the Commander's been through a lot worse before. He'll be all right."

There was a short pause as Hoshi mulled over her friend's assurances. After a while, she whispered, "I sure hope soâ€¦"

Conversation trailed off as the ensigns returned silently to their meal, each lost in their own thoughts. When he'd finished his, Travis looked up to find Hoshi still playing with the remnants of her food. Hoping to cheer her up, he asked with a grin, "Hey, I think we have some time left for dessert. Wanna split a slice of pie?"


	3. Confessions

Phlox looked up from his standard pile of paperwork when the Sickbay door swished open, admitting a harried-looking Chief Engineer.

"Good afternoon, Commander. And what can I do for you today?" Phlox smiled in greeting, his sharp gaze taking in the engineer's pinched expression and oddly mussed hair. Something was clearly amiss with the young man; he looked as if he hadn't had a good night's sleep in days.

"I'm havin' this terrible headache, Doc," Trip said with a wince, one hand rubbing hard at his temple. At Phlox's gesture, he gingerly sat down at the edge of one of the biobeds, keeping his eyes on his feet as the doctor ran a quick scan.

"When did this start?"

"I'm not sure... it's kinda been there these past few days."

"I see... Any nausea?"

"A little."

"Vomiting?"

"Just once."

"When?"

"Uh... Yesterday evening..."

Phlox nodded, a hint of surprise in his voice as he reviewed the results once again, "It appears that you're suffering from quite a severe migraine, Commander, although I don't seem to remember you ever being diagnosed with this affliction before."

"First time, Doc," Trip shrugged, making sure that he kept his voice casual. "What now? Can you give me somethin' for it?"

"Yes, certainly," the doctor answered with another smile. He continued to speak from over one shoulder as he turned to fill a hypospray, "A dose of ibuprofen should help relieve the immediate pain."

Trip breathed a sigh of relief as the injection immediately dulled the sharp edge of his headache. Despite his resolve to not clue anyone in about what was going on with him, the pain had unexpectedly increased few hours ago, to such an extent that he was having trouble concentrating on his work. It'd left him with no choice but to seek some medical help.

"Are you having any trouble sleeping?" Phlox asked, moving to fill another hypospray.

"Jus' some nights..." Trip mumbled, keeping his head bowed.

"Would you like something to help you sleep?"

For a moment, Trip was tempted to say yes. But he wasn't sure if it had anything to do with his headaches. For all he knew, the medication might just make things worse, instead of better.

"Not this time, Doc," he said in the end. "I think I'll be able to manage without the meds for now."

"All right. But come and see me if it becomes a problem."

"I will," Trip nodded. He rubbed his right temple absently, feeling the last of the headache ebb away. With a bit of luck, this medication would help keep the pain away for good. He looked curiously at the doctor as Phlox drew near, a hypospray in his right hand.

"This is filled with acetaminophen," Phlox said, indicating the palm-sized medical device. "It's an analgesic for any future episodes that may take place."

"Any side effects I should be on t'lookout for?"

"There shouldn't be. It's a non-narcotic pain reliever, most effective when taken early in the onset of migraine, so use it the moment that you feel an attack coming on. One dose should be sufficient. Come back if you need more."

The engineer accepted the hypospray with a nod, slipping it into his pocket and hopping off the biobed at the same time. 

"Thanks, Doc."

"You're welcome. And, Commander, one more thing," Phlox cautioned as Tucker reached the doors, looking visibly better now that he'd lost that strained look. "Excess use may lead to rebound headaches so be careful with the dosage."

"I will. Thanks again, Doc."

The Denobulan was still staring thoughtfully at the door long after the engineer had exited the room. He couldn't actually pinpoint what it was that had aroused his misgivings but whatever it was, it didn't sit well with him. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that something was troubling the young officer, migraine notwithstanding.

Phlox shook his head. What he was considering was not a normal course of action, but in view of the situation, perhaps it would be prudent to inform someone about what was going on with the young officer, preferably someone close to Tucker. Forewarned was forearmed after all. With that final thought in mind, the doctor reached over to the comm panel and pressed the button.

"Phlox to Captain Archerâ€¦"

* * *

"Good night, Sir," Lieutenant Hess called out cheerfully on her way out the door, her shift over for the day.

Hunched over at his desk, Trip responded with a distracted wave, his eyes still fixed on the data that the engineering team had accumulated for the day. Thanks to the brief visit to Sickbay, he'd been able to complete the rest of the diagnostics of the engine without any further interruptions. Even the returning sore throat and accompanying cough that had cropped up unexpectedly after dinner hadn't bothered him one bit.

Totally engrossed in his work, he hardly even looked up when the gamma crew started their shift. Suddenly, a shadow fell over him and he glanced up in surprise from the computer screen to find Archer standing beside his desk, a data PADD in hand.

"Hey, Cap'n," he greeted softly, leaning back on his chair. Rotating his stiff shoulders, Trip stifled a yawn as he accepted the PADD from Archer. He took a quick glance at it, recognising the contents of the PADD as the report that he'd handed in early this morning. This morning. Frowning, he sought out the time, surprised to find that it was already close to 2300 hours.

"Hey yourself," Archer replied as he grabbed another chair and sat down opposite the young engineer. "How's it going?"

"Just great. We finished purging the plasma relay's conduits ahead of schedule."

"That's good..." Archer looked intently at the other man, his thoughts and disquiet at Tucker's much too cheerful answer carefully hidden under his answering smile. Even without Phlox's notification, it was clear that something was wrong with the younger man. He'd known Trip far too long to miss the obvious signs â€“ extra hours spent in Engineering, avoidance of the other crewmembers, uncharacteristic broodiness. It was the last that bothered him the most. Whatever the matter was, it was time to find out exactly what was going on with him.

Tapping at the screen at the latest report, he remarked casually, "Haven't seen you for dinner lately."

Trip grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry. I've been kinda busy these past few days."

"You know, even T'Pol remarked on your absence this evening."

"Really?" Inordinately pleased for reasons he didn't want to examine too closely at the moment, Trip's surprised smile widened at Archer's last comment.

"Well, I'll be sure to pop in tomorrow then. The men in the Tucker clan have never let a lady down before, so I'm not aimin' t'start any time soon," he informed his commanding officer with a jaunty two-finger salute.

Despite his worry, Archer's face creased into a smile. Plainly amused by his friend's answer, he replied dryly, "I'm sure the Sub-Commander would appreciate the sentiment."

"Now, that's somethin' I've gotta see to believeâ€“," Trip quipped. A brief coughing fit interrupted the rest of his sentence and he hurriedly turned away, mouth covered behind one hand. Clearing his throat once it was over, Trip turned back to his desk, reaching out for one of the many PADDs scattered randomly across it.

Archer nodded distractedly at Tucker's reply; he'd been studying his friend's face for the past few minutes and so far, he didn't like what he saw or heard, in particular the sound of that cough. Skipping straight to the reason why he'd sought out his friend in the first place, he eyed him critically for another moment before asking brusquely, "When was the last time you had a proper night's sleep?"

The younger man froze in mid-action, surprise flashing across his face at the abrupt change in the conversation. The sentiment was quickly replaced by sense of uneasiness as the question slowly sank in. It had all the signs of heading towards a direction that he'd rather not take at the moment. Shrugging uncomfortably, his eyes met Archer's shrewd gaze for a brief moment before flickering away.

"Haven't been doin' much of that lately," Trip mumbled in the end, looking steadfastly at the data PADD in his hand.

:: _Something's definitely wrong._ ::

Unprepared for the full force of the immediate backlash, Trip flinched involuntarily, teeth snapping together. At Archer's intrusive thought, the intense ache in his head started up again almost immediately. Ignoring the tight soreness of his throat, the engineer swallowed hard, pain flickering in his eyes. He kept his head down, fighting a sudden wave of dizziness.

"You're having trouble sleeping?" Archer shot Trip a look, letting his concern show this time. It was obvious that the man was exhausted, he looked terrible â€“ his eyes were bloodshot, the dark circles under them making them stand out prominently in his suddenly pale, drawn face.

Although Tucker was studiously looking anywhere but at him, the sudden flinch and visible tightening of the young officer's jaw a few seconds ago were not difficult to miss. Neither was the brief flash of pain in the blue eyes just now. Brows furrowing, Archer wondered if the Chief Engineer was having another migraine attack even as he asked the next question, "Since when?"

Taking a deep breath, Trip tried his best to ignore the vicious throbbing in his head as he gave a nonchalant shrug in reply, hoping that the Captain would take his subtle hint and drop the subject.

"Well?"

The Commander groaned inwardly. Well, so much for that hope. For a moment there, he'd almost forgotten with whom he was having this conversation. From the look on his best friend's face and the tone of voice that was used for that one single-worded question, Trip knew that Archer was not going anywhere until he was given a satisfactory answer.

Finally, the engineer muttered, "Maybe four... five days ago."

"Anything to do with that insect bite?"

"It's... possible..." Trip admitted slowly while he reached into his pocket. Pulling out the hypospray, he injected a dose, his next breath coming out in a rush when the pain gradually abated into a dull throb.

"Migraine?"

At his friend's astonished look, Archer said quietly, "Phlox told me..."

Correctly interpreting the expression on the engineer's face at that information, Archer quickly lifted a hand as he continued, "Under the circumstances, Phlox did the right thing here, Trip."

The younger man shook his head, his voice hard, "He... had no rightâ€“"

"Not where I stand. And when did you start coughing? Phlox didn't mention anything about it."

"Cap'n, please..."

"Not until you tell me what's going on with you."

Absentmindedly rubbing his temple with one hand, Trip considered Archer's words. Perhaps it was time that he told someone. Contrary to his initial theory that whatever that was happening to him would fade away in a few days' time, this strange ability of his seemed to be doing exactly the opposite, growing stronger with each passing day.

A novelty in the beginning â€“ he'd even used his newfound skill to surprise his closest friends with a few appropriate gifts â€“ it now seemed like he was constantly sharing his mind with someone else. And instead of just scattered words or phrases, he'd progressed to complete sentences, receiving each of the thoughts from the people around him at sporadic moments. Some of them were shockingly outrageous, even for him. It's really amazin', the kind of things that goes on in a person's mind sometimes...

"Trip?"

Conscious that an answer was required of him, Trip quickly reined in his wandering thoughts, concentrating instead on the unexpected development of his physic ability, the main reason why he'd started taking his meals alone and avoiding most of his friends. What worried him the most in all this, however, was that the intensity of the accompanying migraine had also increased considerably with every new encounter. As his most recent experience moments ago had just shown him, each new shaft of pain was sharper and tended to last longer than the previous one.

With a sigh, Trip looked up, finally meeting his friend's concerned gaze. "It kinda started a few nights ago..."


	4. Analysis

"Well," Archer asked, looking worriedly from the biobed to the Denobulan. "What's wrong with him?"

Phlox studied the incoming data on the screen above Tucker for another moment before turning back to the Captain, his usual cheery manner slightly muted by his immediate concern.

"The neuroscans show an incredible but erratic increase in Commander Tucker's cerebral activity. The levels of his neurotransmitters, or in simple terms, the chemical messengers within his brain, are â€¦how should I put thisâ€“" Phlox paused for a moment, searching for the right words before continuing, "â€“off the charts, I believe that's the phrase to use?"

"How's that possible?"

"It is all quite remarkable, actually. The venom that Commander Tucker was exposed to a few days ago has somehow increased the activity between the synapses of his prefrontal cortex, and in doing so, has intensified his cognitive abilities, especially his higher cognitive functions," Phlox paused suddenly, catching sight of the look on Archer's face. Getting the unspoken message that the other man was not in any mood for complicated medical terms, the doctor added hastily, "Simply put, Captain, he now possesses a telepathic-like ability..."

"What are you saying?" Archer asked incredulously. "That he's able to read anyone's thoughts at will?"

"Not exactly, Captain." At the other man's frown, Phlox hastened to explain, "Yes, Commander Tucker is able to acquire the thoughts of others, although not so much at will. From what I could tell, he has no control over this unusual cerebral ability of his. Perhaps a few appropriate mental exercises may help change that. To date, however, I've determined that the Commander has been receiving random thoughts from his fellow humans but only when they are within a certain proximity to him."

"Fellow humans?" Archer repeated bemusedly. A thought occurred and he muttered, "The music collection he got me..."

"Captain?"

"Uhâ€¦ sorry," Archer focused his wandering attention on Phlox once more. "You were saying that Trip could read the thoughts of his fellow humans?"

"Yes. From the brief tests that I was able to conduct before his headache became worse, I've managed to establish that the Commander was unable to read my thoughts or the Sub-Commander's."

Digesting this information, Archer said slowly, "He mentioned that these... incidents had grown worse these past few days, particularly during the night."

Phlox nodded. "It appears that his telepathic ability increases when his guard is down emotionally, when he's hungry or sleepy, or mentally tired."

"That explains why he hasn't been sleeping much."

"I believe so, Captain. His mental guard would be down during that brief period before he succumbs to sleep, causing the Commander to be very susceptible to the thoughts of others."

"The headaches..." Archer murmured, still very much disturbed by the doctor's report.

"Yes, the migraine attacks that Commander Tucker is suffering from seem to be one of the side effects of his elevated cognitive capacity."

"Why didn't any of these show up in the initial check-up?"

"I believe that his new ability only developed sometime after that day, Captain. The venom itself is very indefinable. If I didn't know what I was supposed to be looking for, even now, I would've missed it."

Archer nodded briskly before asking, "Is any of this contagious?"

"From what I could ascertain from the tests, no."

Relief flooded him at Phlox's answer. At least that was one good piece of news. Although Trip meant the world to him â€“ the young man being the closest he has to family on the ship, in fact, Trip was the brother he'd never had â€“ as captain, his first concern had to be the rest of his crew. His eyes flickering to his unconscious friend before coming back to rest on the doctor, Archer asked, "Is he going to be all right?"

"I don't see why not. His vitals are a little erratic but they are reasonably strong and steady. Apart from his obvious fatigue, the Commander has somehow developed a slight bronchitis problem and a trace of pneumonia since I saw him this afternoon. However, they're fairly mild, nothing that can't be treated with some proper medication."

"These symptoms... they're connected?"

"All current signs do point to that possibility."

Brows drawn together, Archer looked intently at the man who was lying relaxed in sleep on the biobed. Trip had started to explain when he'd suddenly collapsed at his desk, hands clutching at his head. Although he'd regained consciousness by the time they got him to Sickbay, Phlox had decided to sedate him when the Commander's headache had grown increasingly worse during the past hour. Eventually, Archer turned back to the Denobulan.

"Will he remain... Is this..." Archer's voice trailed off at this point; he was noticeably at a loss on how to phrase his next question. After a moment's pause, he continued, "Is this condition permanent?"

"Unfortunately, Captain, that's another question I'm unable to answer at this time. But there is the possibility that this manifestation may only be for a short period of time, that is until the venom has been fully flushed from his system."

"Well, couldn't you just get rid of the venom right now?"

Phlox shook his head. "I'm afraid that wouldn't be a good idea."

"Why not?" the other man demanded edgily, waving a hand towards the only currently occupied biobed. "It has been days and it seems to me he's getting worse, instead of better."

"In his current condition, I'm not sure if the Commander is strong enough to survive the strenuous procedure, specially considering how difficult it was to locate the alien substance in his blood during the initial test. I recommend allowing his body's system to purge the venom by itself," Phlox answered with a reassuring smile, unfazed by the Captain's frustrated tones â€“ Archer's distress at his friend's current condition was clearly understandable.

"I see..."

"Yes, well, in the meantime, I shall be giving Commander Tucker some dopamine to help stabilise his falling blood pressure, amoxicillin to counteract the bronchitis problem, trazodoneâ€“" here Phlox lost Archer as he continued to rattle off what seemed to the Captain to be a whole list of medication. Momentarily bemused by the complex medical names and their purposes, he could only nod as the Denobulan finished cheerfully, "The last few should help keep the cerebral activity down to a minimum until his system is finally free from the toxin."

Giving another nod, Archer passed a hand across his face and sighed tiredly. Right now, it was clear that there wasn't much any of them could do but wait. After leaving instructions to be informed as soon as Tucker woke up, he took one last look at his friend before leaving Sickbay, taking a small measure of comfort in the fact that Trip was at least in the doctor's capable hands.

* * *

"Hey, how're you feeling?"

_Pretty much doped up t'my eyeballs here..._ The spontaneous answer popped up even as Trip grimaced faintly in response to the all-too-familiar inquiry. Although barely into his second day in Sickbay, he was, if truth were told, already getting more than a little tired of people asking him that same question. Finally meeting Hoshi's concerned gaze, Trip gave her a weak grin.

"Tired," he replied simply, deciding on that answer instead of his first response. 

Although he'd been getting more rest these past two days compared to the last five, Trip still felt, to some extent, incredibly exhausted. Not to mention somewhat irritable from still being on the mandatory off-duty list. Only Phlox's many tests and the numerous visits from his crewmates kept him from being bored out of his mind.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Pretty much. Jus' bring me the rest o' my stuff and I can go 'bout callin' this place home sweet home," he said with a straight face, waving his hand vaguely around the room.

"Been spending too much time in here, huh?" Hoshi smiled.

Trip heaved a resigned sighed, grimacing. "Any more an' I'll probably qualify to be one of Doc's pets."

He smiled when a giggle escaped her at his answer. Giving Hoshi a sideways look during the silence that followed, Trip caught her inquiring peek and sighed, knowing what it was that was on her mind. Practically everyone who'd paid him a visit the past two days had done so. What's one more time?

"Go ahead, ask me."

"What?" Hoshi asked, a little startled to find out that her curiosity had been so obvious. At Trip's wry grin, she blushed slightly and cleared her throat. "Sorry..."

"That's al'right," he shrugged. "I guess it's only natural to be curious 'bout it. I'd be if I wasn't on the receivin' end here."

She was glad for his nonchalant response, which helped take away some of her embarrassment at being caught studying him moments ago. Worrying her bottom lip for a moment, Hoshi considered his words momentarily before plunging in, "So, are you reading my mind right now?"

Trip shook his head. "Nope, haven't been doin' any of that since Doc started me on that new set of medication a couple of days ago. Can't say I miss any of it though."

Hoshi nodded at his answer. "I don't blame you. You still look terrible, you know."

"I knew it! You only wanted me for m'looks..."

Grinning at his dry retort and exasperated expression, Hoshi cocked her head to one side as she regarded him. "Was that how you knew which book I was thinking of getting?"

Remembering the few selected questions that he'd asked the other day, Trip grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that..."

She smiled. "Don't be. I think it was one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me. Impractical, but sweet."

"Impractical?" he questioned, taken aback.

"Yes. You could've just asked, you know?"

He grinned. "Yeah, sure. But where's t'fun in that?"

With a laugh, Hoshi handed over the data PADD that she'd brought along.

"What is it?"

"Just returning the favour â€“ some reading materials to keep you occupied while you're stuck here."

The Commander's grateful look was thanks enough for her. Still looking terribly pale, with eyes that somehow seemed too large for his face, Hoshi was nonetheless glad to see that his features had at least lost the strained, pinched look.

"James Herriot's _All Creatures Great and Small_ and Jules Verne's _A Journey to the Center of the Earth_ ," he intoned, glancing at the book titles on the screen. Looking up, he said appreciatively, "Thanks, Hoshi. These should help keep me from goin' nuts while I wait for the Doc's okay..."

"Always glad to be of service, my dear Commander," she replied in a fair imitation of Malcolm's accent, accompanying it with an affectionate grin.

"Hah! Someone's definitely been spendin' way too much time with Malcolm," Trip teased, delighted to see another rush of colour infusing the ensign's fair complexion.

Ignoring the innuendo as well as the growing heat in her cheeks, Hoshi sent her chortling friend her best innocent look, allowing him go on for about a minute before resolutely changing the subject. Finally taking pity on the linguist â€“ if her blush got any redder, Phlox would probably think that she was coming down with a fever herself â€“ Trip, his mischievous grin still firmly in place, went along easily with the flow of the new topic. As a result, the two friends spent the rest of Hoshi's visit comparing notes on the best movie adaptations ever made.

* * *

Despite his best efforts, Trip failed to convince Phlox that he was already well enough to be discharged. In addition to being not the least affected, the Denobulan was also not at all amused by the engineer's powers of persuasion, preferring to call it hounding instead. Insulted, Trip had retreated into his reading, while Phlox had happily used the quiet time to complete his work. The peace didn't last very long, for the Commander eventually began all over again, much to the physician's exasperation.

In that particular battle of wills, however, it was the doctor who emerged victorious, for no matter how hard he tried, it was only late the next day that the slightly grouchy engineer was finally released from Sickbay. Immediately, he headed towards the Mess Hall, suddenly hungry for some food that was not prescribed by the good doctor. Halfway there, Trip caught sight of the Sub-Commander, whom he hadn't seen since their lesson together the day before.

"Hey, T'Pol, wait up!" he called to her, genuinely happy to see a familiar face, even if it was one who had in turn both intrigued and exasperated him often enough.

Turning at the sound of his voice, T'Pol stopped, her expression unreadable as she waited for Tucker to catch up with her.

"Commander," she greeted evenly as he drew near. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," Trip made a face as he fell into step with her. "I think I've heard that question more times these few days than in the last five years."

T'Pol glanced at him. "I trust you have been through more these past few days compared to the last five years."

"Thanks for lettin' me in on that fact..." came his abrupt retort.

"I merelyâ€“"

"I know, I'm sorry," Trip quickly apologised, shaking his head. "I guess I'm hungrier than I thought. I tend to get kinda cranky when that happens."

"So I have noticed."

He stared at her for a moment, astonishment at her reply temporarily getting the better of him. Recovering quickly, he grinned and asked, "Was that a joke, Sub-Commander?"

"Merely an observation, as was the case just now," T'Pol replied, raising a delicate eyebrow at his gentle teasing.

_Will I ever understand her?_ Trip wondered sardonically, eyeing the enigmatic woman before him as they stood just outside the Mess Hall. Dragging himself away from his thoughts, he gave her his most charming grin before asking softly, "So, whaddaya say, T'Pol? Care t'join me for a snack?"

For a time, his question hung in the air between them. Suppressing the urge to fill the silence with light comments and jokes, Trip kept his eyes on the Vulcan as she looked steadily back at him. Right when he thought she was going to decline his invitation, the answer came, verbalised in her customary cool manner.

"Yes, some chamomile tea would be acceptable."


	5. Collapse

Tucker didn't encounter anyone else along the corridor as he walked towards the Armoury late the next morning. Since it was mid shift, he wasn't surprised, and more than a little grateful for the solitude. 

He'd purposely chosen this particular time to move around the ship, hoping to minimise contact with the other crewmembers. Although he knew that everyone meant well, he didn't feel up to another round of 'How are you? â€“ I'm fine, thanks' exchange. The way he looked at it, he'd enough of those the past three days to last him two lifetimes.

Whistling softly to himself, the engineer wondered if he could persuade Malcolm to join him for some lunch once they were done with the recalibration of the targeting sensors. He was sure that pecan pie was one of the desserts on the menu today. And, if the chance presented itself, he might even ask the Lieutenant about those damn flying monkeys of his.

Or not.

Trip shook his head, the corners of his lips lifting slightly at what he imagined would be the staid Englishman's reaction to the question. He wasn't sure he'd like to risk being rendered unconscious by a phase pistol, no matter how much he'd like an answer to that perplexing image. _Heck, I'm not that curious... Well, okay, maybe I am that curious, but suicidal...? Nope, don't think so..._

He took a deep breath, reflecting on how great it felt to have his mind all to himself again. Whatever the Doc was giving him must be working â€“ he hadn't experienced a single vision ever since he started on the new set of prescription two days ago. They left him rather drowsy, but considering the painful alternative, a little lethargy was a small price to pay for some measure of peace.

Hiding a yawn behind one hand, Trip reminded himself to ask Phlox when he could stop the ongoing treatment, especially since his symptoms had all but vanished. He felt fine, except perhaps, he noted with some irritation, for a slight sore throat that had started up again not long after breakfast this morning. Rubbing a light hand across his throat, Trip hoped that this particular ache would disappear soon. The last time he'd suffered from it, the soreness had all but dulled his usual appetite for food.

The whole telepathic fiasco may have been his weirdest experience yet but, then again, looking on the bright side of things, he now knew exactly what to get his friends for their birthdays and for Christmas this year. His smile faded slightly. For everyone, that is, except for Phlox... and T'Pol. Exhaling a soft sigh, Trip finally allowed his thoughts to return to last night's unplanned meal with the Sub-Commander.

Strangely enough, yesterday's supper with T'Pol in an almost deserted Mess Hall was his least stressful moment yet. He hadn't relaxed like that in the company of another, Jon included, ever since this whole mess started. One main reason for it was because, with T'Pol, he could let his guard down without having to worry that he might be receiving her thoughts at any moment. Although, in retrospect, he thought, chuckling quietly to himself, he wouldn't mind receiving a couple of her thoughts. Headaches aside, they might even help him to understand her a little better.

:: _Hmmm... I think I need to run those diagnostics again.:: ::What? How could she say that about him?:: ::I feel sick.:: ::Yeah right... If I had a dollar every time he uses that dumb excuse..._ ::

As if in response to some subliminal desire, a chorus of voices invaded his mind without warning, catching the engineer completely by surprise just as he was turning the corner. While most were just indistinct murmurs, several others came through loud and clear, the speakers sounding like they were right there yelling straight into his ears. Eyes widening in alarm, Trip barely had time to brace himself for the inevitable backlash when the sharp stabbing pain that followed almost immediately slammed full force into him. It shot up his head before spreading rapidly to the rest of his body, drawing from him a low, anguished moan.

:: _Urgh... I think that last piece of pie was a huge mistake.:: ::Good grief! Why is he still wearing that stupid thing?:: ::I think I need some water.:: ::What the heck was that?_ ::

His legs buckling from under him as the assault of voices continued their merciless pounding, the engineer fell to his hands and knees with a cry of pain. The roaring in his ears seemed to increase with every second, until it blanked out everything else around him except for the pounding of his heart. The world around darkened and he shook his head, trying to clear it. Feeling like he was slowly being turned inside out, he forced himself to take slow breaths past the piercing pain.

With mounting desperation, Trip tried hard to remember the various mental exercises that T'Pol had shown him. Despite his best efforts, however, nothing immediate came to mind. Another wave of pain washed over him and he groaned, shivering uncontrollably. What was he expecting? He could barely think beyond the mind-numbing pain, let alone remember something he'd only learnt a couple days ago.

Before he could move, the sharp pain in his chest twisted suddenly, robbing him of his next breath and doubling him over. For a moment, the world spun crazily out of focus and he bit his bottom lip hard, tasting blood as he fought off the accompanying nausea.

:: _What was that all about?:: ::Is there enough time to catch a short nap before my shift?:: ::I really hate this thing!:: ::Should I go for the chicken or the fish?:: ::Don't tell me I've lost it again...? The Commander will kill me for this!_ ::

_Stop! Someone, please, make it stop...!_ One hand clutching at his chest, Trip struggled painfully to his feet and leaned shakily against the corridor wall. He didn't need anyone to tell him he was in serious trouble. 

With each ragged breath, shafts of pain assailed his body while his skull felt like it was currently being split into tiny pieces by razor-sharp spikes. Eyes closed and mouth hanging open, he strove to stay conscious, his heart pounding so fast it seemed like the organ was going to burst out of his chest this very second. _Need... air... Can't breathe..._

:: _I have to find some time to write home or Mum is so going to kill me...:: ::Porthos is so cute! Wish I had a dog like that.:: ::I can't believe I overslept this morning!:: ::Now, that's what I call a smile!_ :: 

Balling his fists tightly against his temples in a desperate attempt to ward off the incoming thoughts, Trip tried to call for help. But no matter how hard he tried, nothing came out of his cotton-dry mouth, and he soon gave up, focusing instead on gulping precious air into his lungs. Hardly aware of his surroundings, Trip stumbled blindly, stubbornly, onwards; blue eyes only mere slits on a pale, sweaty face, as he tried to get as far as he could from the horde of voices in his head.

A blurry door loomed into view. It was only a short distance away but to the stricken man, it could have been in another galaxy altogether. Squinting painfully at his goal, trying hard to focus pain-glazed eyes, the engineer stretched out a trembling hand before him and staggered forward. Each laboured step more excruciating than the last, he lurched unsteadily towards the door, a part of him vaguely puzzled that it looked no closer but instead, seemed to be retreating to an impossible distance away.

As another violent spasm racked his fast weakening body, Trip noticed with a start that his teeth were chattering, the sound abnormally loud in his own ears. Wrapping his arms around his chest in an attempt to ward off the chill, he looked feverishly around him, disorientated. _Where am I...? It's freezing in here... How'd it get s'cold...?_

:: _Where did I put that PADD?:: ::Hey! What happened to my uniform?:: ::And how many bloody times have I told him to notâ€“_ ::

Without warning, the voices increased in their intensity, blending together into a cacophony of horrifying sounds. But it was the destructive backlash, which effectively blocked out everything but the intense pain that siphoned whatever remaining strength the young officer had left. With another soft cry, Trip collapsed, a faint sigh escaping his lips as he spiralled helplessly into a deep black abyss.

* * *

_And how many bloody times have I told him to not write the report that wayâ€“?_ Malcolm Reed was in mid-rant when a faint sound caught his attention. 

He looked up distractedly from the data PADD in his hand, a frown drawing his brows together. That was odd. He could've sworn that he heard Mr Tucker's voice just now. A quick glance around the Armoury told him what he'd already knew, although the Commander was supposed to come help with the targeting sensors, he was currently nowhere in sight.

Grimacing self-depreciatingly, Malcolm turned back to the report on the screen, remembering an occasion where he'd once needled Mr Tucker about this very same thing. Now who's the one with the active imagination?

Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, Malcolm couldn't get rid of the sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong. Finally, realising that he was rereading the same paragraph for the third time, he put down the PADD with a sigh and walked towards the door. Perhaps his concentration would be better after lunch. _I think I'll go look up Mr Tucker and see if he'd like to join me for an early lunch before we start on the recalibraâ€“_

All thoughts skidded to a halt as the door slid open. His eyes went wide. _Bloody hâ€“_

"Commander!"

Crouching down beside Tucker's prone figure, Malcolm quickly felt for a pulse, fearing the worst. Puffing out a breath of relief as he found one, he hurriedly felt around his pocket for the communicator. Pulling it out, he flipped it open.

"Reed to Sickbay."

"Yes, Lieutenant Reed?" Phlox's voice came back almost immediately.

"Send a medical team to the Armoury right away. It's Commander Tucker."

* * *

On any given day and time, Sickbay would have been filled with an assortment of sounds and voices from time to time, as afflicted personnel sought out the good doctor, each seeking some measure of relief from whatever that was presently ailing them. From his examination and some relevant questions, the doctor would then be able to prescribe the appropriate medication to counteract each specific complaint. All in a day's work for the Chief Medical Officer on board the USS Enterprise.

This particular Sickbay visit, however, was different, as the Denobulan's many medical pets made the only sounds in the area. There were no questions being asked or any answers given. Neither were there any voices raised in complaint nor words of thanks gratefully professed even as the medication took effect. The two officers who were present scarcely even breathed as they stood silently watching while Phlox examined the third man, who was lying unconscious on a biobed.

Shifting his weight soundlessly from one foot to the other, Malcolm looked on, his apprehension obvious on his normally inscrutable features as he watched Phlox bend over the unmoving form, a medical tricorder in hand. It didn't show but he was still a little shaken from finding Trip that way. For a really brief moment out there at the corridor, he was sure the Commander was dead.

Inwardly shaking his head, Malcolm frowned, seeing his friend looking so... _fragile_... troubled him greatly. Mr Tucker's gregarious and fun-loving nature had, in some way, made him larger than life. To a certain extent, he'd got so used to Trip being full of life and energy that it was somehow all wrong to see him just lying there, so silent and still. 

Looking down, Malcolm glowered at the floor. The thing he hated most about this was the overwhelming feeling of helplessness that he felt; if only there was something he could do besides just waiting around.

Beside his silent tactical officer, Jon was equally tense, face dark with concern. His hands, clenched tightly at his sides, belied his calm demeanor. Entering Sickbay and seeing Trip looking as still as death was one of the most painful, unnerving experiences imaginable. Only the soft beeping of the equipment beside the unconscious engineer assured him that he'd not lost his closest friend yet.

Unexpectedly, a memory popped into his head and the still shaken Captain couldn't help but wince. The last time Trip was even remotely in the same condition was when he and Malcolm had just been rescued from their appalling adventure in Shuttlepod One. But unlike that time, right now, they had no existing assurance that he would be all right. Looking away from the still figure, Jon studied the floor, momentarily lost in his recollections of his best friend.

After what felt like hours instead of the actual few minutes, the doctor straightened and turned towards the waiting officers. Phlox's movement alerted both men and they each looked up from their personal musings, faces expectant.

"As you can see from the monitor, the levels of the neurotransmitters in Commander Tucker's brain have elevated to almost three times higher than what is considered normal, along with his synaptic activity, since his last check-up three days ago. It seems that the stimulants I have prescribed have only slowed down his condition, but not any more."

"How did this happen?" Archer asked, his voice low and strained. He'd clenched his jaw so hard during the waiting period that it now hurt. His eyes flickered apprehensively towards the unconscious man before meeting the doctor's anxious gaze.

"I'm not sure, Captain. But I do know this. Instead of purging the venom from his system like it should be doing, his body is somehow replicating and assimilating the toxin at an alarming rate, accelerating the degree of neural activity to an extremely dangerous level. His body is slowly shutting down because of this..."

"Shutting down?" Malcolm asked with a frown. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Well, the human physiology is not made to endure the accompanying physical demands of such cerebral activity, especially not of this magnitude. Unlike the last time, where his symptoms gradually manifested themselves over a four-day period, they've now developed at the same time, and all at a fairly alarming rate."

"So you're saying...?"

"Yes, Captain. As you can see, his bronchitis problem has returned, and with a vengeance, I might add. Commander Tucker is also suffering from severe pneumonia, accompanied by an extremely high fever. I've managed to contain the fever but what concerns me the most, apart his mild heart arrhythmia, is that he might be showing slight symptoms of hydrocephalusâ€“"

"Hydocep...?"

"Hydrocephalus," Phlox repeated, holding Archer's gaze. "It is an abnormal buildup of cerebrospinal fluid, or what is normally called CSF, in the brain."

The two men exchanged a quick, worried look before the Captain asked hoarsely, "Are you saying that Trip has brain damage?"

Phlox shook his head. "No, not yet, so far. But if the pressure of the CSF in his brain increases any more, that may well be the eventual outcome here."

"Isn't there something you can do for him should that happen?"

"Yes, I can insert a shunt," Phlox said of the flexible, plastic one-way valve tube, "into the ventricular system of his brain to drain the excess fluid. This will help relieve the pressure on the brain. The flow of the CSF will then be diverted into another area of the body, where it can be drained and absorbed into the bloodstream."

"Sounds... unpleasant," Malcolm gave an empathic wince.

Phlox nodded. "However, the good news is that Commander Tucker's condition is fortunately stable enough not to warrant that process at the moment."

"So that's it? We just wait until he gets worse?" Archer asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice. He'd rather face an army of Klingons alone than to stand idly by and watch his best friend die without doing anything possible to help him.

"No, Captain," Phlox paused, looking from one man to the other. "What we need to do is to formulate an antidote for the venom as soon as possible. I'll be keeping Commander Tucker here until then, to minimise the chances of another assault on his mind. I can only guess how acute his last migraine attack must have been."

"What would you need?"

"A specimen of the insect that stung the Commander that day would be an invaluable resource to the serum that we need. In the meantime, I'll start work based on the scans and test results I've got so far."

Archer frowned. "Does anyone even know what it looks like?"

"No." The doctor looked thoughtfully at the patient before turning back to them. "But I believe the Commander did mention seeing a flash of gold before he was stung."

Archer nodded at that small piece of information, his features somber. He knew it wasn't much; there was the possibility that they would be traipsing around the planet for days without ever finding a specimen of the insect that had attacked Trip. However, given their current situation, there weren't many options open to them. Hopefully, they'd get lucky. He reached over and pressed the button on the comm panel.

"Archer to the bridge."

"Go ahead, Captain," T'Pol's voice answered him.

"Set a course back towards the planet. And get us there as quickly as possible."


	6. Surface

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, Armoury Officer, Tactical Officer and Chief of Security of the USS Enterprise, was not a happy man. Even at top warp speed, it had taken the NX-01 almost a full day to return to the lush green surface of the planet. 

Now, walking slightly ahead of the other members of his team, the Starfleet Officer's eyes were dark and hostile as his boots uncaringly flattened the grass underneath them. Keeping a watchful gaze out for anything that could be construed as suspicious, he led on at a slow but steady pace, ducking repeatedly to avoid the many low branches that were in their way.

Finally coming to a stop at their next scanning site, the four-member team quickly separated into groups of two and conducted a thorough scan of the place. It wasn't very long before everyone regrouped. Malcolm's face grew grimmer as he listened to their report, his frustration growing at each negative answer. Giving the signal to proceed to the next location, he heaved a soft sigh, unable to get Phlox's words out of his mind. _Neurotransmitters, brain chemicals, hydrocephalus..._

It was bad enough that he was extremely troubled by what was happening to Mr Tucker... _Trip_ , whose condition had not changed since he was brought into Sickbay last night. Having to thrash about a hot, humid planet overflowing with plant life, looking for a mysterious flying bug that no one had seen before, was definitely not helping to improve his mood, nor was ineffectually fighting off what felt like a zillion blood-sucking insects that were intent on bleeding him dry. _Bloody bug-infested place..._

The only good news he could see so far in all of this was the assurance that these infuriating pests, currently using him as their personal drink cache, were apparently harmless. At least, that was what they'd managed to establish based on the results of T'Pol's scientific scans and survey a week ago, although Malcolm privately thought otherwise.

He considered losing a few pints of blood to these aggravating creatures a definite sign that they were anything but harmless. As a precaution, however, they were each given a strong anti-toxin before they had departed for the surface of the planet. Not that it would help much against the bloody insect that had stung the Commander, who may just be... Malcolm quickly caught himself before the thought could progress any farther, or turn any bleaker. _Hang on, think positive now..._

Something landed lightly on his arm, mercifully distracting him from his contemplations and he looked down. Taking out his irritation on the unfortunate insect, he smacked it hard, a soft forceful swear escaping him as, unlike its predecessors, this one squished messily against his hand. 

Malcolm grimaced, already regretting the excess use of force even as he curbed the impulse to just wipe the entire mess onto his uniform. Instead, reaching out, he plucked the nearest leaf and tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to wipe his hand clean. Tossing the first one away, he plucked another... then another, his mood darkening further with every tug at the local flora.

Directly behind Lieutenant Reed, Hoshi looked up at the garbled curse. Speculating curiously about the soft hum of words that were coming from the man, the linguist picked up her pace until she was more or less beside him and took a quick peek. What she saw made her raise her eyebrows. There was a ferocious frown on Malcolm's face and he was busy trying to get his hands clean of a familiar gooey bright green stuff. It was also quite obvious that he wasn't having much luck at this point, watching while he discarded the soiled leaf and plucked yet another one.

The young Communications Officer shuddered as she eyed the unpleasant mess, recalling how difficult it was to get her hands clean when she'd accidentally smacked one of those things too hard herself. As if he knew what she was currently thinking about, Travis looked over from a few metres away and frowned. Catching sight of the expression on his face, she giggled softly, unable to help herself.

_I'm so sorry_ , she mouthed at him for the fifth time since the incident half an hour ago. She still couldn't believe what she had done to him. But it was an automatic reaction to the mess on her hands and he'd been the nearest person to her then. 

Shaking his head, Travis scrunched his face up at her in reply and then carried on walking. The boomer was slightly ahead of her, and she had to hide her emerging grin behind a hand at the sight of the bright green stain on his left shoulder, which unfortunately, was standing out rather starkly against his relatively clean uniform.

Her slight amusement fading as the purpose of their mission came forcibly to mind, Hoshi sighed softly, immediately seeking comfort in one recurring, solitary thought. _Well, at least he hasn't got any worse..._

Glancing under her lashes at the leader of their group, who was marching resolutely onward, Hoshi wondered what he was thinking. Not that it would be very hard to guess. As it has for the past hour, her thoughts turned back to the reason why they were on the surface of an alien planet right now. _Hang on, Trip. Please, just hang on..._

"Anything yet?"

At Malcolm's question, Hoshi took another quick peek at her tricorder. She shook her head, watching his face carefully, easily reading the tension there. However, the only response the Lieutenant showed at her answer was a curt nod and a slight tightening of his jaw as he continued silently onwards.

Pressing her own lips together, Hoshi suppressed the impulse to ask Malcolm if he was all right, knowing how much his friendship with the Commander had progressed during the past year. What was happening to Trip was hard on all of them, mostly because they still had no way of knowing whether he was going to be all right. She could only imagine what it was doing to the Captain and Malcolm, who were, without doubt, Trip's closest friends on board.

The linguist chewed on her bottom lip, feeling more than a little frustrated at the apparent lack of success of the mission so far. They had been down on the planet's surface for over two hours now but have yet to come across anything even remotely golden. Finding this insect was crucial, for her, for all of them â€“ the idea of not having the affable, outgoing Chief Engineer as part of the crew was not something she'd liked to consider, not even for the briefest of moments.

Another sound of a bug being smacked, this time from Crewman Elizabeth Cutler, drew her attention back to their surroundings and Hoshi grimaced, sympathising wholeheartedly with the other woman. She hoped that Liz would have better luck getting her hands cleaned compared to the Lieutenant. Squaring her shoulders for what was undoubtedly a long day ahead, Hoshi silently trudged along; keeping her eyes peeled for what seemed to be, now more than ever, Trip's only hope.

* * *

The only occupant in the brightly lit chamber, currently in the midst of his daily studies, was oblivious to his handsomely decorated surroundings as he pored over an ancient tome. Bent over his desk, there was a slight frown on his face while he concentrated single-mindedly on his research. Every so often, he would look away from the many books to scribble something on the parchment before him.

Suddenly, although there was nothing to indicate that anything had changed, he paused halfway in his work, looking up from his study of an old scroll. He waited quietly, bright green eyes fixed upon the door, face unreadable. Although it was a few seconds before the soft knock sounded, the aged scholar was already ready and waiting for his visitor.

"Enter..."

Taelek opened the heavy door and peered around it, seeking out his mentor. At Koerin's nod, he entered the room, closing the door behind him. Walking as quickly as he could without actually having to run, Taelek moved towards the end of the study chamber, heading for the man seated behind the huge writing table.

Even at the considerable distance separating them, Koerin could sense the nervous excitement that was within the man. Patiently, he waited until his young protÃ©gÃ© was standing in front of his desk before giving him permission to speak.

"Good wishes, Master Koerin."

"Good wishes, Taelek. What is it that you wanted to see me about?"

Taelek clasped his hands behind his back, curbing the urge to hop from one foot to the other under the weight of his news. Without further preamble, he replied, "Master Koerin, the visitors... They have returned again."

The old man nodded slowly at his apprentice's winded announcement, remembering almost similar words being spoken only a few days ago. "And how are they this time?"

"They seemed to be conducting a search. I fear that the worst has happened."

Koerin suppressed a sigh. He'd hoped that this day would not come but it had. In fact, almost nine dawns had passed since they last laid eyes on their visitors and he was sure that they would not be seeing any of those off-worlders ever again. It looked like he was wrong. Taking a deep breath, he remarked quietly, "Well, this certainly changes things."

"What do we do now?" Taelek asked, looking anxiously at his mentor.

Putting down his quill, the aged scholar gently rolled up the parchment and stood up. "Come, Taelek, I think it is time we paid our visitors a visit."

* * *

Swearing under his breath, Malcolm shook his left boot free from yet another cluster of wet leaves. Looking up, he eyed their surroundings moodily. They had been looking for the bloody insect for the past three hours and so far, all they'd managed to do was to get deeper into the blasted forest. From the look of things, the rest of his team were not having much luck either, he mused as Travis and Liz walked up to him, their previously clean boots covered with a thick layer of mud.

"We've finished the scans, Sir. There's nothing there."

Malcolm checked his own tricorder and shook his head. "I'm not picking up anything on my side here."

"I've nothing as well," Hoshi reported, joining the group.

"All right." Swallowing a frustrated groan, Malcolm indicated the small path in front of them, "Let's continue, that insect has got to be somewhere on the planet."

As the four of them walked on, Malcolm hoped that the Captain and his team were doing a lot better than they were on the other side of the forest. He hated to admit it but he was beginning to wonder if they were ever going to find this elusive bug. 

Lost in his own thoughts, he'd almost missed the two heavily cloaked men that were standing so silently behind some bushes to their right. Startled by their unexpected appearance, the Tactical Officer stopped so suddenly that Hoshi almost walked into his rigid back.

"Lieutenant Reedâ€“"

"I see them, Travis," Malcolm replied as he lifted a hand as a signal to the rest of his team to stop moving. Reaching for his phase pistol with his right, he continued, almost to himself, "I see them..."

* * *

For a brief silent moment, no one moved as members of both groups quietly sized up the other side. Clasping his hands in front of him, Taelek watched curiously as the tall, dark-haired man, who appeared to be the leader of the group, slowly held up a hand, signalling to the rest of his companions. He frowned, observing that the man's right hand had also promptly gone to a small black case at the side of his leg and was now holding an unusual looking contraption.

Taelek glanced at the rest of the man's companions â€“ they each had one of those things in their hands as well. He tilted his head slightly to the right; he didn't like how those odd devices were currently being pointed at their direction. Were those weapons of some sort?

With a tinge of apprehension, he turned to his mentor and whispered, "Master Koerin, it appears that they may be armed. Perhaps we shouldâ€“"

"It is all right, Taelek," Koerin said reassuringly, putting a calming hand on his apprentice's arm. "They are just taking the necessary precautions. After all, they have no way of knowing whether we are friend or foe."

"But how do we know they mean us no harm?"

"These off-worlders are armedâ€“" Koerin smiled at his young protÃ©g's wide-eyed look. "Yes, Taelek, those are weapons... But they would have used them by now if attack had been their intention. Instead, see how the men had moved protectively in front of the women, even though they themselves are also similarly equipped? They are just taking precautionary measures... with the men facing us and the women watching their backs..."

"What do we do now?"

"We wait. It is always better for the uncertain to approach first. This way, we would not alarm them with any flawed attempts of communication."

"And if we were wrong about them?"

The complacent expression faded from the older man's face and he looked faintly troubled by that possibility. "I do not think we are but should it come to that, we will make sure that these four, and the other group of people down here with them, will never see their ship again."


	7. Contact

From his position slightly in front of his team â€“ he'd automatically shifted in front of Hoshi while Travis had the same with Liz Cutler when their visitors had appeared â€“ Malcolm took a small cautious step forward, his whole stance tense and watchful. Considering that their clothes blended in perfectly with their surroundings, the Armoury Officer was surprised that any of them even saw the two aliens in the first place.

A persistent thought nagged at him; there was this uncomfortable feeling that both individuals would have remained unnoticed if that had been their desire to do so in the first place. And he didn't like what that theory represented, not one bit. 

The notion that they would've just walked past the two of them without ever noticing that they were actually there â€“ watching... listening... waiting... â€“ did nothing to reduce his uneasiness or suspicion of the cloaked figures. He couldn't even tell what gender they were; their voluminous clothing had effectively obscured that particular detail from his dubious gaze.

"Any sign of anyone else besides our mysterious friends over there?" he called out softly to his team without turning his head or looking away from the now silent strangers.

Three pairs of eyes darted around, taking quick, cautious glances of the forest that surrounded them before returning with a negative answer. Satisfied that they were currently not surrounded by the natives of this supposedly uninhabited planet, Malcolm gripped his phase pistol tighter and called out tentatively to the strangers, wishing heartily that he could see what they actually looked like under the thick covering of their robes.

"Err... Hello?"

At his greeting, the figures exchanged a brief look. Then, in uncanny unison, they turned back to their visitors â€“ hands held out in front of them, with the left clasped loosely in the curve of their right â€“ and gave the bemused Enterprise crew a low bow in return. Malcolm was just contemplating if they should return the gesture when their unexpected company lifted their hands to push back the cowl of their cloak, displaying their features to them.

Moving slightly to the right so that Malcolm's broad shoulders weren't directly blocking her line of view, Hoshi's eyes widened as she took in the men's general appearance. They were definitely humanoids but she didn't recognise the species; she was positive there weren't any mention of them when she glanced through the Vulcan Database a few days ago. It would have been very difficult to forget if she had seen them before.

Each man had a pair of vivid emerald green eyes under thick brows but their most distinguished feature was three deep gash-like stripes on each cheek. Each also had a thick mop of hair, although the older man's hair was pure white, like his brows, while his younger companion's mane and eyebrows were a brilliant shade of red and orange. And neither looked as if they meant any harm, instead, they appeared to be waiting for them to make the first move.

Hoshi looked over at Malcolm as he tried communicating again, her fingers moving rapidly over the Universal Translator. She'd holstered her phase pistol and had been working on the UT since her sensitive ears had picked up the whispered conversation between the men a few minutes ago.

"We're from the Starfleet exploration vessel Enterprise."

Reaching out and grasping a long black staff that he'd leaned against a nearby tree, the older of the two then said something in reply, gesturing lightly at the four Enterprise crewmembers with his free hand. Malcolm took a quick look behind him, seeking out the linguist. Hoshi shook her head at him, even as she continued to work on translating the alien language.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but I need more words."

His expression revealing none of the misgivings and trepidation that he was feeling, Malcolm turned back towards the men and warily repeated his previous sentences. No matter how friendly or unthreatening they look, his phase pistol wasn't going to be pointing anywhere else until he was sure that he and his team were not in any immediate danger.

"...the Starfleet exploration vessel Enterprise."

After another brief conversation with his companion, the older man spoke up again, his voice low and pleasant. Slowly, the odd garbled sounds in his speech began to make sense. "â€“ood wishes. We welcome you to our world."

Malcolm blinked, exhaling slowly. Lowering his phase pistol but not holstering it, he replied, "Thank you. I'm Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. My crewmatesâ€“" Here he waved his free hand towards the vicinity of the other three people with him. "Ensign Hoshi Sato, Ensign Travis Mayweather and Crewman Elizabeth Cutler. We're from the Starfleet exploration vessel Enterprise."

Both men gave them another bow at the end of Malcolm's introductions before the older one spoke up again, "I am Koerin. And this is my protÃ©gÃ©, Taelek. We are glad that you are finally here."

The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow, carefully hiding his surprise at the final sentence. He exchanged a quick look with Travis before turning distrustfully back to the men. "Oh?"

"Yes, we know why you have come and I am also afraid that you would not find whatever you are seeking for on your own."

Malcolm frowned. "Forgive me for asking this but what do you know about what we are looking for?"

Koerin dipped his head as he answered, a congenial smile on his lined face, "One of your people, the fair-haired one, is very ill, is he not? We can help him."

* * *

Looking up at the monitor above Tucker's bed, Phlox studied the emerging data with a pleased smile. He glanced back to the biobed as the engineer stirred slightly, showing the initial signs of regaining consciousness for the first time in almost 24 hours. 

The doctor looked around. He'd already dimmed the lights of the surrounding area to 25% to accommodate a discomfort most likely to be experienced by the patient. Turning back to Tucker, Phlox gave a soft grunt of approval as the Chief Engineer's eyelids began to flutter open.

"Ahh... Good afternoon, Commander. Good to have you finally awake..." the physician beamed at the disorientated man while Tucker peered up blearily at him.

"Doc...?" came the hoarse reply. "Whereâ€“?"

"In Sickbay. You've been here since last night. How do you feel?"

Although the room was in semi-darkness, Trip winced as the muted lights hit his eyes. He squeezed them shut, one hand covering the upper part of his face. He rasped out, voice was rough from lack of moisture and use, "My eyes... hurt. What's... what's wrong with... 'em?"

"Just a little photosensitivity, Commander," Phlox informed him with a smile, putting away his medical tricorder after completing the scan. "Perhaps a bit more than I had anticipated. Here, let me turn the lights down for you a little more until you've adjusted."

At Phlox's command, the room slowly darkened a little bit more. Somewhat cautiously, Trip cracked opened his eyes and looked groggily around. Meeting the doctor's gaze, he whispered, "What... happened?"

"How much do you remember?" Phlox asked, helping the engineer sit up. He then handed him a small glass of water. "No... don't gulp it. Take small sips. There... better?"

Trip nodded, sipping carefully at the water, while he considered Phlox's earlier question.

"Not much o' what happened," he said in the end. "I â€¦ I think I was on my way to the Armoury to see Malcolm when..."

"When...?" the Denobulan prompted when Tucker fell silent, his hands playing with the now-empty glass.

"I'm not sure," Trip said quietly, slowly, shaking his head. It felt like it was stuffed full of cotton; everything was a hazy, confusing blur right now. "I remember suddenly... gettin' all these thoughts. They were... they were all jumbled up and comin' from... everywhere, all at t'same time..."

"Really?" Phlox mused in amazement before shaking his head. "Most remarkable. The range of your telepathic ability has certainly increased greatly if you are able to receive thoughts from different parts of the ship. Anything else?"

Trip sighed. "Well, there's the usual pain... only this time, a whole lot of it..."

"I would have been surprised if there weren't any," the doctor remarked with a brisk nod, looking closely at Tucker. Although his vitals had unexpectedly stabilised a few hours ago, the Commander still looked drawn and extremely pale, his red-rimmed eyes and slightly sunken cheeks a clear indication of his soreness and fatigue.

"How about now? How are you feeling?"

"Jus' the headache."

Turning to the table beside him, Phlox filled a hypospray, injecting the contents in the side of Trip's neck.

"Thanks, Doc," Trip breathed a relieved sigh. Already the medication was working its magic â€“ he felt almost himself again. Trip looked up, giving the doctor his best hopeful look, "So, when can I get back to work?"

Phlox shook head, giving the engineer his best doctor's look. "I'm sorry, Commander, but you are in no condition to return to active duty. You've not fully recovered from your bout of bronchitis or pneumonia. On top of those, you still have a low grade fever."

"Aww... C'mon, Doc," Trip pleaded. "I'm okay. Really. Maybe jus' a sore throat â€¦ and, and the headache but even that's not that bad now, thanks to what you jus' gave me..."

"I believe that what you have is more than just a headache, Commander, seeing that you almost died from your last mental assault," Phlox nodded at the other man's startled look, before proceeding to tell Tucker what had happened during the entire time he'd lain unconscious in Sickbay.

"Furthermore," the doctor finished sternly, "you need to stay here, away from the other crewmembers. This will decrease the chances of you receiving their thoughts unintentionally, which is most likely to be the trigger of these attacks."

"But I feel fine now..." Trip said, his voice trailing away at the end of his sentence. Although his face was now paler than before, there was a hint of awe in his voice, as what he'd just been told finally hit him. He had no idea he'd come so close to death.

Phlox smiled at the myriad of expressions that crossed the young man's face before answering, "Yes, this is a really intriguing development. The good news is, the more acute, life-threatening of your infirmities have all but disappeared when the chemical levels in your brain returned to normal a few hours ago."

"Well, if I'm back to normalâ€“"

"Please, Commander, if you would let me finish..." Phlox waited for until the dark blond head bobbed in hesitant agreement before continuing, "Based on your recent medical record, I believe that your next attack will be even more acute than the last one. If this happens, your body will not be able to survive another mental assault, be it of the degree of your last attack or the one before it, let alone one of a more severe intensity. Because of this, and because we have no way of determining when it may take place, every possible precaution must be taken to prevent it from ever happening."

Trip stared incredulously at the CMO of the Enterprise. "What are you sayin', Doc? That I could die if I get 'nother dose o' what happened last night?"

Phlox's smile had vanished at the final question and he now looked gravely at his patient, "Not 'could', I'm afraid. More like 'will'. Even if your body is somehow able to withstand the violent repercussions that seem to accompany these attacks, it is almost a certainty that your mind would not, seeing that there were some major complications the last time."

Trip chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, digesting the information, his eyes wide and haunted. After some time, meeting Phlox's concerned gaze, he said quietly, "So, I'll need t'stay here then... away from everyone..."

"Yes, until we get an antidote formulated, that would be the best course of action."

* * *

"Still nothing, Sir," Crewman Novakovich reported as he walked back towards the rest of the team, his scans complete.

Concealing his disappointment from the rest of his team, Archer nodded tersely at the frustratingly recurring answer. If he had a choice, he'd rather be there when Trip woke up. But being in Sickbay was out, since Phlox wanted to keep Trip's contact with his fellow humans down to a minimum, to reduce the risk of another mental onslaught.

He looked around as his team headed towards the next section. They'd been on the surface close to four hours now and from the looks of things, were no closer to a cure for Trip than when they'd first started. Their entire search area wasn't that considerable but he was beginning to wonder if two teams were sufficient for the task, which was starting to look progressively hopeless with each passing hour.

Not that he'd lacked volunteers for this mission; once word got out, he'd been bombarded with requests to participate in the search, especially from Trip's engineering crew. It wasn't an easy decision to make, but in the end, he'd formed two search parties, the other headed by Malcolm. _Speaking of which, I hope Malcolm's team is doing a whole lot better than us..._

"Captain..."

At T'Pol's voice, Archer looked inquiringly over to where she was standing, tricorder in hand. With cool precise motions, she indicated the adjacent area with one hand, "I believe this is the final section of the forest on our side. There is still no sign of the insect."

A frown marred Archer's brow as he listened. While most of it was due to her report, a microscopic portion was caused by a mix of curiosity, confusion and amazement. For a brief moment, despite the fact that it'd vanished as quickly as it had appeared, he thought that he'd caught a particular glint in the Vulcan's wide brown eyes, a flash of something... anxiety, perhaps? Was it possible that his Science Officer was more distressed about this situation with Trip than she was letting on?

"Captain?"

Archer blinked at her call and hastily refocused his thoughts. T'Pol was clearly waiting for a response to her report. Right now, with her looking so impassively at him, he was inclined to think that it was all probably just his imagination. 

Inwardly, he mentally cursed himself for being caught wool gathering, as Trip would say, especially at a time like this. Dismissing his theory as a fanciful notion most likely caused by the stress that he was under, he rubbed a weary hand over his face as he replied, grim-faced, "I realised that, T'Pol. Any otherâ€“"

The rest of his sentence, however, was lost as his communicator chirped softly at that very moment, interrupting him.

"Enterprise to Captain Archer. Please respond."

"Go ahead."

"Captain, we've lost contact with Lieutenant Reed's team," Lieutenant Daniel Anderson reported in a tight voice.

"What do you mean 'lost contact'? What happened?" Archer demanded, his tone sharper than he'd intended. Beside him, T'Pol stood silent, listening closely.

"I don't know, Sir. Their biosigns were there one minute and gone the next."

"How long ago?"

"About ten minutes. We've been trying to scan for them ever since."

Shooting T'Pol a troubled look, Archer spoke into the communicator once more, "Send down their last coordinates and keep scanning for them. Contact us immediately if there's any news."

"Aye, Captain."

Signing off, Archer turned to his waiting officers. He didn't bother to hide his uneasiness as he informed them grimly, "Everyone on high alert. It seems we may not be alone on this planet after all..."


	8. Explanations

After several frantic but futile attempts, Archer reluctantly conceded defeat in their efforts to contact Malcolm and his group. Anxiety sat heavily upon the four of them as they headed silently towards the last known coordinates of the second away team, each nursing a hope that their friends were all right, wherever they might be.

"What about wild animals? Are there any on the surface?" Archer asked suddenly, trying to eliminate another reason for the sudden disappearance of four members of his crew. He knew he was grasping at straws but that was the only thing he had going right about now.

"None that we know of. And as Enterprise did not report any ships in the vicinity, it would be safe to say that Lieutenant Reed and his team are still on the planet itself," T'Pol reasoned quietly from beside him. "Also, any attempt to transport them off the planet would not have gone unnoticed. Perhaps they are in an area undetectable by our sensors."

"I hope you're right. We don't have the time to smooth any ruffled feathers should we suddenly find ourselves in someone else's territoryâ€¦"

"That would be highly improbable, Captain."

"Good," Archer said shortly, eyeing the communicator clutched in one hand as if it held the answer to where his missing crewmen were. Unclenching his teeth, he forced himself to calm down, realising that anger and frustration would not be get them anywhere. But it was difficult, seeing that a setback like this one was exactly the last thing any of them needed right now, not when they still had to find the cure for Trip's condition. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts that when the communicator beeped suddenly, he almost dropped it. Biting off a curse, he quickly recovered and flipped it open.

"Reed to Captain Archer."

"Malcolm!" he exclaimed, relieved to hear the other man's voice. "What happened? Enterprise lost track your biosigns and all communications more than ten minutes ago."

There was a momentary silence on the other side before Malcolm's reply came back, his surprise evident in his voice, "I'm sorry, Captain. I had no idea we were cut off or had vanished from the scans. It could be something to do with the two men that we've just encountered."

Now it was the Archer's turn to pause in mild astonishment. 

"What men?" he asked finally.

"They appear to be natives of the planet. And they claim to be able to help Commander Tucker."

Surprise, fused together with hope, flickered across Archer's face. Exchanging a quick look with T'Pol, he quickly spoke into the communicator, "Right. You and your team stay where you are. We're already on our way to your position and should be there in about ten minutes."

"Aye, Captain. Reed out."

Immediately after the Armoury Officer had signed off, the communicator beeped again. This time it was from Enterprise, reporting that they'd located the missing team, only to be informed by Archer of the latest development. It was an extremely relieved Lieutenant Anderson that signed off moments later. Pocketing the communication device, Archer turned towards T'Pol.

"There is no record of this planet ever being inhabited, Captain," she replied his questioning glance, one eyebrow delicately raised.

"Is that so?" he said dryly. "I guess the database is due for an update then."

* * *

"Captain, are you certain we can trust these people?" Malcolm asked in a low voice, keeping both men within sight at the same time. "For all we know, they may have been the ones who'd caused Commander Tucker's current condition."

Archer frowned. He wasn't at all surprised by the other man's suspicions or doubts. The fact was, he'd been wondering the very same things himself. It hadn't taken long for both teams to meet up and regroup at the edge of the forest after Malcolm's call. Once introductions were completed and out of the way, the Lieutenant had taken the first available chance to communicate his reservations regarding their unexpected company to him. 

Looking away from their subject of discussion, who were conversing quietly between themselves not far away, Archer shook his head as he met troubled grey eyes. "I don't have the answer to that, Malcolm. Perhaps we can't trust them at all. But what choice do we really have? Just be extra alert until we know for sure."

"Aye, Sir."

With T'Pol and Malcolm close behind, Archer walked up to the men, who immediately turned towards them, faces open and friendly. "Koerin..."

"Yes, Captain Archer?"

"What exactly did you mean when you told my officer that you could help us?" Archer asked, trying to keep the impatience he felt from showing. Meeting new species might be one of their primary objectives but as exciting as this particular first contact was, right now, time was of the essence and they had no time to spare for any small talk. Hopefully, as soon as Trip was out of danger, they would have all the time to find out more about these J'ralls.

"We can. But first of all, I need to know how your young friend is doing."

Archer's eyes narrowed with mild distrust but he complied, describing Trip's condition and symptoms carefully. At the end of his narration, Koerin's face was grave. "It is as we fear. Your friend had a brief contact with what our people call a _psŷc_ the very first time he was down here. A reaction to its venom is what ails him."

"A _psŷc_?"

With a quick glance around, the old man continued, sensitive to the questioning look on each solemn face, "Yes, Captain. It is a primeval insect, which has existed way before our civilisation began. And since the Day of Enlightenment, this creature has been an important element in an ancient ritual of our people."

"I see..." Archer looked intently at their alien host before he continued, an undercurrent of anxiety underlying his next sentence. "I'm really sorry, Koerin, if I seem impatient here, but I have a very sick officer on my ship right now and unless we find this insect... this _psŷc_ , he might die."

"Believe me, Captain. We fully understand your concern," Koerin responded softly. "In truth, I was beginning to wonder if you were returning. Tomorrow would have been one full cycle."

"One full cycle?"

Koerin nodded. "Yes, nine dawns make a full cycle for us."

"Oh... Well, we didn't know about Trip's condition until a few days ago. The symptoms only started to show up then."

"I see. Will your officer be able to join us on the surface then?"

"I'm not sure that would be such a good ideaâ€¦" Archer hesitated, Malcolm's caution never far away from his thoughts the whole time.

"It would be the only way to help him."

"But why help us? What would you be getting out of all this?"

Koerin was clearly not expecting such an outburst and he looked a little taken aback by the bluntness of the way the questions were presented. Archer couldn't see Malcolm's expression since the Armoury Officer was slightly behind him but apart from a raised brow, T'Pol displayed no other reaction although he suspected that she wasn't all too pleased with his candor.

Shrewd eyes assessed him for a time. "Please be assured that our intentions are honourable towards you and your crew, Captain Archer. You have my word that no harm will come to you or any of your people while you are on our world. We only wish to assist your officer, nothing more. Although we may prefer our own company, it does not mean that we condone the death of an innocent, especially when it was of no fault of his."

Keeping his astonishment of the J'rall's astuteness carefully hidden, Archer considered the softly spoken words. He glanced over at T'Pol, catching her almost imperceptible nod. Making the decision to accept their offer, the Starfleet Captain quickly explained Phlox's diagnosis regarding the cause of Trip's mental assaults.

Koerin nodded when the younger man had finished. "Your doctor's prognosis is accurate, Captain. But I think Commander Tucker will be unharmed down here. The planet's gravitational force should protect your young friend until we can help him."

Archer frowned. "Gravitational force?"

T'Pol shifted ever so slightly, turning towards the pensive Starfleet Captain. "Microgravity is known to cause physiological changes in living systems such as muscle atrophy, bone loss and fluid shifts..."

"Yes, I know. The lack of gravitational acceleration has been proven to have adverse effects on the health of astronauts in long-duration missions. It was one of the several problems that they had to overcome when they started the Space program all those years ago," Archer said, continuing his Science Officer's line of thought. He shook his head, still not completely convinced. "But I don't see how...?"

"The surface gravity here is slightly different, Captain," T'Pol responded when he turned questioning eyes at her. "It is entirely possible that the small discrepancy here could be an influencing factor in shielding Commander Tucker from inadvertently receiving the thoughts of others."

"Perhaps. Which would explain why Trip wasn't susceptible to either your or Phlox's thoughts, since the both you come from planets with a higher gravity than Earth," Archer said thoughtfully before glancing at Koerin. "But how can you be sure that this will work?"

"We cannot. However, should the circumstances call for it, we shall then shield him from your thoughts ourselves. But I am convinced that it may succeed, based on a somewhat similar encounter about five hundred years ago, although with a different species. Most of their symptoms parallel those of Commander Tucker's. I am hopeful that your species will also react positively to the surface gravity of our planet."

"What happened the last time?" Archer asked, desperately seeking the reassurance he needed before he had to any decision regarding moving his Chief Engineer down to the surface.

"It went well, or at least, the healing part of it. Overall, however, it was not an experience that we hoped to repeat, ever..." Koerin looked lost in thought and his pleasant baritone hardened slightly as he continued, "The previous encounter is not something we like to talk about, for it was not a pleasant memory for our people."

Reining in his curiosity at that not-so-subtle hint, Archer refrained from asking for more details, saying instead after a moment's deliberation, "All right, Koerin, we'll do it your way. But my doctor tells me that Commander Tucker is currently too weak to be moved."

"Then, we shall await until he is strong enough," the old scholar replied, unperturbed by the news of the delay. "But it cannot be long." Gesturing with his right hand, he continued, "Please, if you would follow us, I will explain further on our way to our destination."

* * *

It was slightly after 1700 hours when Trip finally stirred from his first deep, non-drug induced sleep since the headaches had first started. Rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand, he slowly sat up, wobbling a little, a part of him vaguely surprised at the lack of soreness in his throat. Not that he was complaining, far from it; he'd never been happier, or more relieved. It was just that he'd had the pain for so long that it now felt a little strange to be free from it. A slight sound caught his attention and Trip looked up as the Denobulan approached, a smile on his face.

"You're certainly looking a lot better," Phlox remarked with a satisfied nod as he ran a quick scan over the man seated at the edge of the biobed.

Trip gave him a weary smile. "Well, the sore throat's gone."

Phlox nodded, tapping quickly at the screen of the data PADD. He looked closely at his patient. "Good, good... Headache?"

Trip shook his head.

"What about nausea?"

"No, I feel fine, actually. Jus' a lil'..." Perking up as the rest of thought hit him, the Chief Engineer continued with a hopeful look, "...hungry. Any chance of some food, Doc? I'm kinda starved."

"Of course," Phlox answered cheerfully. "A returning appetite is always a good sign."

"A good sign?"

"Of recovery."

"Right." Trip eyed the Denobulan for a second before voicing his next question, his words coming out in a rush, "But I can have real food, right? Y'know... somethin' other than what I've been eatin'..."

Phlox couldn't help but smile at the apprehensive expression on the young man's face. The Commander obviously did not find the provisions in Sickbay appealing, not that Phlox blamed him. Tucker had probably had more than his fair share of it compared to the other crewmembers, considering the number of times he had been in here during the past week.

"Certainly," Phlox answered, a chuckle escaping him at the look of relief that crossed the Chief Engineer's face. He placed the data PADD down on the table beside them before turning back to the young officer. "I'll send someone to get you something to eat from the galley after we're finished with this final test. Now, Commander, if you would please follow my finger..."

* * *

Flipping his communicator closed, Archer allowed a soft sigh of relief to escape as he replaced the small device into his upper right arm sleeve pocket. He glanced to his right and nodded as he met T'Pol's steady look, allowing a fleeting smile to cross his face at the same time. Although her expression never changed, Archer could have sworn that something flickered briefly in her eyes before she turned back to the path in front of her.

"Good news, Captain?" Koerin's voice broke into Archer's thoughts and he looked towards the aged J'rall with a grin.

"Yes, the ship doctor has just reported that my Chief Engineer is doing a lot better. He's recovering well, in fact."

Upon hearing the news, the other members broke out in simultaneous smiles. Clapping Travis on the back, Malcolm's grin widened as he watched Hoshi and Liz share a quick hug while everyone else exchanged relieved glances with one another. Watching the reactions of his fellow crewmates, Malcolm marvelled at the effect of that one tiny bit of good news, feeling his own heart lighten. Suddenly, things didn't seem to be that bleak.

"That is indeed excellent tidings."

"Yes, Koerin, it is."

"Will he be able to join us then?"

"Yes," Archer nodded. "He'll be accompanied by our doctor. They should be on their way soon enough to the coordinates you've mentioned."

"Wonderful. I am looking forward to making the acquaintance of your physician. It is always a treat to meet other healers, and we do not often have that privilege these days. Come, we shall await their arrival at the city, since they will be landing somewhere close by."

Archer glanced at the scholar beside him as they walked on. "You haven't exactly explained why you needed Trip to be down here."

"Ah, yes. But before I do, you first need to understand the role that the _psŷc_ plays in our society. You see, Captain Archer, the sting of this insect releases a toxin into the body, which is then assimilated by the chemicals in the brain."

"For what purpose?"

"The toxin enhances the recipient's extrasensory ability."

"You are telepaths."

That was not a question. Koerin nodded at the Vulcan's evenly stated fact. "Very much like you, Sub-Commander."

"Yes but our telepathic ability is limited, mostly involving touch."

"So was ours, a long time ago, before they evolved to the level that they are now."

"Are you able to read minds?"

"Most certainly." Koerin turned towards Archer. "If circumstances warranted such an action, although we do not normally carry out such practices. On the contrary, we are currently blocking your thoughts from our minds."

"Oh?"

"Yes, our abilities are only used to defend our cities and our people. Save special occasions, they are not even employed for communication for it involves a lot of concentration from both sides. The simple verbal contact is still the preferred method. Rest assured, Captain Archer, your minds are in no danger of being probed by anyone here. And it cannot be done without you being aware of it. Trust me when I tell you that you will know if someone is doing so. It is not altogether a very pleasant experience."

"Are all J'ralls telepaths?"

Koerin met T'Pol's cool gaze. "Yes, Sub-Commander, it is part of our natural ability although the degree of the physic capacity differs somewhat from one person to the other. Those of us, who are what you could call sentinels, or guardians, of our city, naturally possess higher telepathic capabilities compared to those who aren't."

"Is that what you and Taelek are?" Archer looked curiously at the old man. "Sentinels?"

"Yes... and no. I was, once, but it was a long time ago," Koerin replied. "I still retain the elevated mental capacity although I rarely use it now. These days, my time is spent in study and training young protectors like Taelek."

"I recall an ancient Vulcan legend that speaks of such mystical creature. It was said to possess unparallel capacity to enhance a person's mental or physical ability," T'Pol remarked. "But I had always taken that it was all it was â€“ a legend."

"Ahhâ€¦ yes, I am afraid it is more than just a legend, though I must admit that I am not at all surprised that it has been reduced to that," Koerin shook his head, a small smile playing about his lips. "It has been many generations since anyone outside the people of this planet have had the chance to come into contact with one of these creatures."

"And if it weren't for the Trip's chance encounter..."

"You are correct, Captain," Koerin said, finishing the rest of Archer's sentence when he trailed off. "We would have remained hidden away as we have been all this while."

Archer studied the J'rall silently and then asked, "Why now? Why didn't you contact us when we had a Science team down here a couple of days after the incident?"

There was a glimmer of regret in Koerin's eyes as he answered, "We watched your people while they worked that day. The Commander looked fine then. It appeared that the venom had not affected him and I thought that perhaps your species were immune to it."

"I guess we're not."

"Unfortunately so. Unlike what I had initially believed, your species is extremely receptive to the toxin. As it turned out, it only works slower on your physiology. With us, it takes but one dawning of the day."

"Since humans are naturally emphatic..."

"Yes," Koerin confirmed T'Pol's theory with a dip of his head. "Because of that, the venom of the _psŷc_ has only enhanced what Commander Tucker already has within him, even if the dose was never meant for him. Taelek was supposed to be the recipient of that gift that your young friend had unwittingly taken upon himself to bear."

"Wait, let me see if I got this right," Archer said, impatiently brushing off an insect that had settled on his hand. "Because we also have a somewhat limited telepathic capacity, although it's not usually utilised, the toxin has somehow brought out Commander Tucker's natural psychic ability?"

"That is correct, Captain Archer. The toxin does not have any effect unless one possesses an innate extrasensory faculty in the first place."

"All right. But if it only increases the natural telepathic ability, why is Trip so ill?"

"Perhaps the answer also lies in the human physiology," T'Pol offered.

"There is that possibility," Koerin agreed. "Although I doubt any other species, natural telepaths or otherwise, would have fared any better. It has more to do with the mental exercises that we carry out than anything else. You see, unless one's mind is prepared for the immense cerebral responsibility that it is called to bear, it will eventually break down, and the body along with it."

"And this is what's happening to Trip..."

"I am afraid so, Captain. Each of us that are called has been training for this immeasurable mental task since childhood. Your young friend has not."

"Is that how you shielded my people from our scanners when you first made contact?" Archer questioned.

"Yes, we were unsure whether you meant us any harm so we telepathically blocked out any form of communication," Koerin answered. "It was only after we've managed to establish that his â€“ your â€“ intentions were appropriate, and honourable, that we allowed Lieutenant Reed to contact you."

"I didn't know that your abilities were that powerful. Are you able to jam all communication signals?"

"Jam?"

"Err... to block off... stop..."

The faint confusion on Koerin's face disappeared. He shook his head. "Only when there is a sufficient number of us, and when we are within a certain range. It is not something we do often but it was necessary at that time."

Archer nodded, absently noting that they were heading towards a small clearing. They hadn't been walking long but were already some distance away from the thick dark forest. Taking a quick glance around, he wondered if they were anywhere near this city that Koerin had mentioned. It looked like they still had a long way to go â€“ there wasn't anything within sight but more bushes and trees.

Sensing their hesitation, Koerin invited pleasantly, "Come, Captain, Sub-Commander. We are here."

By this time, the J'rall had led them to the middle of the clearing. They stood there, waiting for the rest to catch up. Archer shot a questioning glance at T'Pol before looking curiously around, curbing the urge to ask the J'rall where exactly here was, unaware that Koerin was using the time to study the members of the away team.

As soon as Taelek and Malcolm, who were bringing up the rear, joined the waiting group, Koerin waved a lined hand towards the area before them and said with a hint of pride in his voice, "Captain Archer, let me be the first to welcome you and your crew to Gardien City, the capital of our world."

At Koerin's words, the air in front of them seemed to shimmer and brighten, while the clearing was somehow growing larger by the second. Archer and his crew watched, transfixed, as little by little, what had been hidden all this while was slowly revealed.

"Wow..." Hoshi breathed, taking in the final sight that greeted them.

Malcolm couldn't agree more with the sentiment, vaguely aware that his own mouth was currently hanging open, as were Travis' and Novakovich's. In fact, everyone was just about speechless in awe. Even T'Pol looked mildly impressed, a no mean feat by itself, considering the number of unusual things that she'd seen in her lifetime.

If the Armoury Officer wasn't absolutely certain that he was well awake and in full control of his facilities, he would have been convinced that he was in the middle of a hallucination or, at best, under the influence of some sort of drug. As it was, he was hard-pressed to stop himself from asking someone to pinch him awake because, materialising right before their startled gazes and extending as far as the eye could see, was what appeared to be an ancient medieval city, complete with a huge, majestic castle at its very heart.


	9. City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I have absolutely no clue what Malcolm's childhood was like it's just an idea of what he might have done as a young boy.

  
Author's notes: Okay, I have absolutely no clue what Malcolm's childhood was like â€“ it's just an idea of what he might have done as a young boy.  


* * *

Looking about with open curiosity, the eight-member team cautiously stepped onto the paved road spread out before them and followed closely behind their alien host. Still bringing up the rear, Malcolm glanced around while he walked beside Taelek, trying to look everywhere at once. It felt like they had walked into a 12th century medieval kingdom, the presence of various modern equipment and devices notwithstanding. The city itself was amazing, reminding the Armoury Officer strongly of the pictures that he'd seen in history books as a young child.

If he didn't know better, he would have thought that they'd just gone back into the past and were now part of an ancient King Arthur legend. Apart from Ulysses, it was one of his favourite stories while he was growing up. As a young child, castles, valiant knights and battles that were fought at the time had enthralled him â€“ the very elements that made up those dark ages â€“ but it was the weapons that had captivated him most.

Until he'd discovered modern artillery, his interest had mainly focused on medieval armaments like catapults, swords, lances, crossbows and battleaxes, among others. An old memory resurfaced and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He'd even made his own shield one day when he was about nine, complete with a coat of arms that he'd designed from several coloured papers. His 'sword', of course, had been just a long stick, but at that time, it was the mightiest weapon around, enough to strike down even the most powerful of enemies. 

He smiled, remembering the many hours of fun that he had had with a plain stick and a simple, handmade shield. _I wonder what happened to that old thing..._

"What is it?" Taelek asked curiously, catching the expression that had flashed briefly on his new friend's face. Next to the beautiful Vulcan woman, he'd found Lieutenant Reed the most fascinating of all the off-worlders. He'd never met anyone who knew so much about weapons before. And since J'ralls had not use any for many a generation, the Starfleet Officer was an excellent source of interesting information and fresh knowledge.

Glancing at his nearest companion out of the corner of his eye, Malcolm answered lightly, "Just an old memory from my childhood days."

"It looked like it was a good one."

"Yes, Taelek, it was."

"Perhaps when this is all over, you would share it with me? I would love to learn more about your people."

"I'll be happy toâ€“"

"Excellent! ... Now, if you would please excuse me awhile, Lieutenant..."

Malcolm had to smile at Taelek's enthusiastic manner, watching as the younger man responded to Koerin's wave and hurried off towards his mentor. In some ways, the young J'rall reminded him very much of Travis and of... Trip. At the reminder of why they were on the surface of the planet in the first place, Malcolm's smile vanished, and he wondered how Mr Tucker was currently faring.

* * *

"Please, Commander," Phlox began, trying to get the tense, exhausted body to lie back down on the biobed. His worried glance rested briefly on the chronometer and he frowned â€“ it was a little too soon for the man to be waking up from the dosage of sedative that had just been prescribed to him. "You are in no condition to be up..."

Although Trip indicated with a shaky wave of his hand that he was all right, the physician's concerns were well justified. Not only had Tucker's fever spiked dangerously during the last hour, the bronchitis and pneumonia that he was suffering from had also threatened to escalate once again to a critical level. It was only through several powerful antibiotics that the doctor had managed to keep the afflictions from developing any further.

Concern and fascination warred within Phlox as he considered the cause of the Tucker's now steadily deteriorating health â€“ Ensign Potter's brief presence when he'd brought the Commander's dinner from the galley. Heading orders, the man was nowhere near Sickbay, having placed the tray of food on the floor several metres away from the door. But it was evidently not far enough. 

The engineer was half asleep when, with a low, pained gasp, he'd suddenly clutched at his temple with both hands, curling into a tight ball on the biobed as he struggled with the mental backlash triggered by the ensign's thoughts.

Hurrying outside to the corridor, Phlox had quickly waved the startled crewman away but it was already too late, the damage had been done. The only thing the doctor was grateful for was that the cerebral intrusion had come from only one man. He couldn't even begin to imagine the consequences if there had been more than one crewman out there at that time. Although held in check by the current assortment of medication, Tucker's cerebral capacity was evidently getting stronger.

Following another violent bout of coughing and severe vomiting that left the young man drained, Tucker finally succumbed into a deep but fitful sleep. After making sure that the sedated patient was responding, albeit somewhat inadequately, to the medication that he'd prescribed, the physician had used the rest of the time to give his menagerie of pets their daily feed. He was just supplying his Pyrithian bat its final Vulcan Sandworm when he'd turned to find the Chief Engineer stirring prematurely from his drugged slumber.

"Commander..." Phlox tried again, considerably alarmed by the ashen look on the young officer's face as Tucker struggled to sit up.

Obstinately ignoring the Denobulan's warning tone as well as the throbbing in his head, which had started up again the second he'd woken up, Trip set his jaw against the pain and waited for the world to tilt back upon its axis again. As soon as he can, he rasped out, "Who else is down there? Malcolm? Hoshi? Travis? ... T'Pol?"

Phlox shook his head, studying his patient with worried eyes. Relenting, he moved closer and guided the sick man into a sitting position, recognising the stubborn, determined look in the other man's face. It wasn't very long after he'd awoken that Tucker had once more asked about Captain Archer's whereabouts. The last time the engineer had done so, he'd just managed to avoid answering it, using several questions of his own to distract the young officer from pursuing the matter further.

However, Phlox could see that Tucker, while ill and weak, wasn't going to be sidetracked that easily this time. It was a situation both admirable and alarming, considering that right now, the Chief Engineer looked as if even the slightest of breeze would be able to knock him flat out onto his back. It was also obvious from his current facial expression that the Commander wasn't at all pleased with the answer he'd just received regarding Archer.

"Doc?" Trip demanded a little impatiently when Phlox didn't respond straight away.

"Yes, they're also down on the planet with Captain Archer, along with Crewman Cutler, Novakovich and Foster," the doctor finally replied, even as he ran a quick scan. He frowned at the discouraging results. The Commander's synaptic activity was still perilously irregular.

Trip buried his damp head in his hands with a soft groan at the doctor's answer. The last thing he wanted to put any of his closest friends at risk. Swallowing painfully, he pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, speaking half to himself, "Don't they know it's dangerous down there...?"

"Yes, butâ€“"

The stricken man hardly heard Phlox's interjection, so lost was he in the belief that he'd just sent his closest friends to their deaths. Despair ate at him and he squeezed his eyes tight against the ache building up in his chest. His voice came out in a rough whisper as he looked unseeingly down at his fisted hands. "Don't they know? If the same thing should happen to any one o' them... What if the Cap'n...?"

"Commander Tucker!"

His head snapping up at Phlox's slightly raised tone of voice, Trip focused fevered eyes on the doctor's face with some trouble, staring at him without any sense of recognition. For a brief moment, confusion and terror shone clearly out of the blue gaze. Then reason asserted itself, along with an awareness of his surroundings, and he winced, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"Sorry..." he mumbled, unable to meet the doctor's empathetic gaze.

"It's all right, Commander," Phlox said reassuringly, hiding his deep concern. He sent Tucker an encouraging smile when he looked up, hoping that it would help assuage the young man's fears. The engineer didn't look good â€“ his face was flushed with fever, his eyes slightly glazed from the pain. 

Turning aside to fill a hypospray, Phlox forced out a cheerful tone as he continued, "And I'm sure the Captain and the others are safe and sound. In fact, I just spoke to Captain Archer when you were resting... right before you were taken ill."

"Really?" Brightening visibly at the news, Trip asked thickly, "How are they? What did the Cap'n say?"

"Oh, they're fine â€“ all of them. I believe that they've also just met up with the indigenous inhabitants of the planet."

"Indigenous inhabitants?" the engineer repeated with a frown. "What indigenous inhabitants? The Vulcan Database never mentioned that the planet was inhabited..."

Phlox gave slight shrug. "It has been a few hundred years since the Vulcans first visited the planet, Commander, and only for a brief moment..."

"Yeah... T'Pol mentioned that. They didn't have any time to do anythin' then but to run some minor scans. That was why she wanted t'carry out the survey when we were on the surface last week."

"Well, we can safely say that an update of the database is in order," Phlox commented with a smile.

"Figured as much," Trip grunted tiredly, rubbing his temple with one hand. Looking down, he noted without much interest that his feet were currently bare. Glancing around for his boots, he asked distractedly, "So, who's running the bridge?"

"That would be Lieutenant Anderson."

"Daniel? How's he doing?"

"Lieutenant Anderson is doing just fine, Commander. Now, if you will..."

Distracted by the device in Phlox's hand, Trip only heard part of the answer, his missing footwear all but forgotten. He scowled, eyeing the hypospray apathetically. If he never saw another one of those medical devices again in his life, it'd be too soon.

"Aww, Docâ€“"

"It would be safer if you were asleep," Phlox's tone was firm and brooked no room for argument. "That aside, you could really do with the rest..."

With a resigned sigh, Trip tilted his head to one side, allowing the physician to empty the contents of the hypospray into the side of his neck, wincing a little at the slight sting. He might have protested just now but he knew that it was only a token gesture. Right now, he was too tired and too much in pain to disagree with anyone, let alone with the CMO of the Enterprise, who could be as tenacious, or even more so, as anyone he knew, especially when it came to the health of the ones under the good doctor's care.

Feeling the effects of the medication almost immediately, Trip laid back down on the biobed and stared drowsily at the ceiling, relieved that he could no longer feel the various aches in his body. He was still thinking about his friends, wondering how they were doing down on the planet, when oblivion glided by and bore him away to the waiting darkness.

_The trip to the surface may just have to be postponed for now_ , the Denobulan ruminated, watching the tenseness ebb away from Tucker's body as sleep quickly overtook him. The Chief Engineer was obviously in no condition to be moved right now. With a worried frown, Phlox studied the sleeping man, who still looked distressed and wan, even in slumber, cognizant of the fact that he was fast running out of drug combinations to stop Tucker's condition from worsening any further.

* * *

It was almost late evening but the light was still bright enough for Malcolm to make out, in the distance, tall, majestic towers that graced a huge, beautiful stone castle, which was in turn surrounded by a forest of trees. It appeared that they were heading towards the large fortress and he wondered curiously what they would find there.

Before they'd entered the city, Koerin had cautioned that any communication with Enterprise would only possible from the castle. Disbelieving at first, Malcolm had immediately tried out his communicator, only to acknowledge the truth in Koerin's words when all he could get was a continual flow of static.

In a benign but firm manner, the old scholar had also rejected Archer's plan of staying outside the city until Trip's arrival, explaining that doing so would only increase the chances of discovery by any other visiting species, something that they greatly wished to avoid. In the end, Archer had reluctantly accepted Koerin's suggestion that they wait for Phlox's team at the castle, where they would also be able to establish some sort of communication there. The coordinates that were given should land the shuttlepod just outside Gardien City.

"Is there where we're going?"

Raising an eyebrow at Hoshi's direction, Malcolm answered, "Apparently so."

"The whole city is cloaked telepathically. Isn't it just amazing?"

"Yes, very."

"According to Koerin this is the largest on the planet, being the capital. I wonder how many cities are there...?"

Malcolm shrugged, hiding a small smile at her whispered query trailed off, recognising it as the rhetorical question that it was. He used the opportunity to study her covertly as she walked alongside him. The beautiful linguist had certainly changed, and was a far cry from the white-knuckled explorer she had been when they'd first started out on their journey, scarcely more than a year ago. He knew that her progress was due to many reasons, but he liked to think some of it was also because of the target practices that they'd been having. With a rush of pride, Malcolm remembered their last session. Her scores were definitely improving.

Glancing once more at time, the Lieutenant was surprised to see that it was only 1840 hours. Although he felt that they'd wasted the whole morning and the better part of the afternoon tramping through the dense forest that surrounded the hidden city, there wasn't any doubt that the overall situation had improved once the J'ralls had shown up, a little more than two hours ago. They might not have the cure for Trip yet but at least it didn't feel as if they were alone anymore, helpless against something that they didn't understand and had absolutely no power over whatsoever.

The soft creak of an adjacent window drew Malcolm from his thoughts and he grimaced inwardly at all the attention that they were getting. Inhabitants of the city, young and old alike, were coming out from the small, exquisitely structured stone houses lined up at each side of the paved road to stare curiously at their strange visitors. Regardless of how justifiably so it might be, all of this attention was making him nervous, not to mention very uncomfortable.

The Tactical Officer's uneasiness at their group being the centre of attention was momentarily forgotten when a young J'rall, who looked no more than five, ran out onto the street. He gazed up at Archer and T'Pol, bright wonderment in his huge bright green eyes, before making his way to the back of the group. Still peering inquisitively over his shoulder at the Vulcan as he trotted along, the youngster barrelled full speed into Hoshi, who'd tried unsuccessfully to move out of the way of the chubby toddler.

"Mmmphh!"

Quickly putting out both hands to stabilise the young child, Hoshi grinned at his wide-eyed expression. Getting over his surprise, he promptly responded to her smile with a wide, toothy grin. Totally charmed by the simple gesture, Hoshi bent down until she was eye to eye with the diminutive boy.

"Hello," she greeted in his native language, eliciting another smile from him and surprised chuckles from the watching adults.

"Hi," the small boy answered shyly, putting out a timid hand to her face. Hoshi remained still as he explored her face. He seemed most mesmerised by her smooth cheeks, his tiny fingers lingering on that part of her face the longest.

The rest of them had stopped when the boy had run into Hoshi and they now watched silently as she allowed her tiny admirer to explore her features at his leisure. At first, Archer was concerned about the repercussion of the young child's telepathic ability on Hoshi's mind but Koerin had quickly assured him that one that young would not have developed the capability just yet.

Relieved by Koerin's answer, Malcolm had allowed himself to relax a little, but he continued to keep a close eye out for anyone who might be acting even remotely suspicious. Watching their interaction, he had a feeling that the linguist would have knelt there for an indefinite period of time if the child's mother had not come over and gently disengaged her small son from the Communications Officer with a shy smile. With some reluctance, the youngster left with his mother, but not before giving the ensign an enthusiastic wave goodbye.

Standing up, Hoshi returned her young friend's gesture and then turned back to her crewmates, seeking out Archer's gaze.

"I'm sorry, Sirâ€“"

"That's okay, Hoshi," Archer interrupted her apology with a slight smile. "I think we all needed that moment."

"Let us continue," Koerin called out from the head of the group, waving a hand at them. "We are almost there."

* * *

Malcolm took a deep breath as they drew nearer the imposing stronghold. The fortress looked even more majestic and glorious up close. Constructed of masonry and stone, it was as high as any of the modern skyscrapers of the cities back on Earth. Surrounded by a deep moat, its only connection to the land on the other side appeared to be a broad drawbridge, which slowly lowered as they walked up to it. Without warning, two similarly robed men appeared at the entrance of the gatehouse, their faces expressionless while they watched the approach of the strange group of travellers.

"Please, remain here," Koerin instructed. At his companions' silent acquiescence, he left their side and walked up towards the gatekeepers.

"Good wishes, Master Koerin."

"Good wishes, Piekra, Reodran," the old J'rall answered, returning their low bow with a dip of his head. Leaning closer, he spoke quietly to the men before indicating to the waiting group to follow him once more. Trading guarded looks, Archer and his team slowly walked up to the gatehouse, passing the two J'ralls, who'd moved aside without a sound, allowing them passage into the castle.

Walking right behind Koerin, the team soon exited the arched hallway into a wide-open space. Looking around, Malcolm marvelled at the structure of the dark grey fortress. If he remembered his castle terminology correctly, they'd just entered the outer bailey, or courtyard, of the castle. The surrounding curtain walls were thick and solid, broken only by soaring spherical towers built into them. On top of the fighting platforms were several ballistas and catapults. The medieval weapons looked old and unused, but somehow he was sure that they were all in perfect firing condition.

_Ping._

"Look at that...!" Travis' surprised hiss from somewhere in front of him drew Malcolm's attention to what he surmised to be the exercise area for those defenders in training. What they saw astounded them. While one young J'rall sat on the ground, with eyes unblinking and in almost uncanny stillness, three more youngsters, each manning a strange machine, were taking turns hurling rocks of all sizes at him from all sides.

_Ping... Ping... Ping..._

Each high-speed missile, however, were stopped a few hundred metres short of its target, each bouncing back and falling to the ground after hitting what seemed to be an invisible barrier surrounding the meditating J'rall, who just might be made out of stone, for all the expression that he showed.

_Ping... Ping... Ping... Ping... Ping..._

The projectiles started to come faster, and as they watched, the barrier surrounding the young man also began to grow in diametre, until several rings of rocks of different sizes, started to form around him. Then the launches stopped and the target blinked, emerging from the trance that he was in. He smiled at his fellow trainees, who immediately grinned back at him. Malcolm could almost hear their cumulative sighs of relief as the exercise was completed. Perfectly too, judging by the ecstatic expressions on their young faces.

Then, the three J'ralls that were on the machines went very still and suddenly, the scattered stones began to rise up from the ground, forming three enormous piles before floating across the exercise area towards each man. As the last pebble disappeared into the container in front of each machine, Travis turned towards Malcolm with a grin.

"Well, that should be a handy talent to have around."

Malcolm returned the smile but nodded noncommittally, he was already envisioning food trays floating around the Mess Hall while everyone sat waiting at their tables. Somehow, a grinning Trip seemed to be in the middle of that absurd scenario and Malcolm fought to keep the smile from turning into a downright chuckle. It quickly melted away when another more disturbing thought intruded â€“ if what they'd just witnessed was just the beginning of what the J'ralls were capable of, he couldn't help but to wonder what the consequences would be should they decide to exercise that power upon an unsuspecting universe.

"Let's go," Malcolm said, shaking off the troubling image, and both men trotted after the group. They soon caught up with the rest just as they turned the corner, entering what he immediately identified as the great hall. 

Connected to the upper floors, by several circular staircases with ornate engravings, the main chamber of the castle was larger than any mansion that the Armoury Officer had seen. In fact, it could house three to four such buildings easily, and still have room to spare.

"This is **sacrilege** , Koerin!"

The incensed voice drew Malcolm from further contemplation of the hall and he looked ahead to find two darkly robed men confronting their old guide. Immediately suspicious, he quickly moved forward â€“ after making sure that Ensign Foster took his place at the rear of the group â€“ and stopped just behind Archer, every nerve on edge.

"Captain?" he ventured softly.

"I'm not sure, Malcolm," Archer replied, equally sotto voce, as he frowned at the scene unfolding before them. It was a struggle to contain his impatience at this new development. He could only hope that whatever was about to take place would not be a cause for any further delay, especially since he could practically feel time, precious time that they cannot afford to lose, that Trip cannot afford to lose, slipping away like sand from them.

While his guests were suddenly tense and watchful due to the sudden appearance of the somewhat hostile newcomers, Koerin appeared unperturbed by their presence, or of their heated accusation. He merely laid a hand on his protÃ©g's arm â€“ although he gave both men a low bow of respect, Taelek looked all too ready to jump to the defense of his teacher â€“ and addressed his livid contemporaries calmly, "It is the right thing to do, and you both know it."

The taller one gave a derisive snort. He passed a quick eye over the wary group behind his fellow scholar, taking note of their unusual attire and guarded looks before dismissing them. "What we know is absolutely nothing about these people..."

"We know enough," Koerin countered, an answering glint in his emerald eyes. Briefly, his innate serene demeanor disappeared as anger shone through. "The Council's decision is final, Haelon. We were to help should the need arises. It has."

"The Council..." the other man all but spat out, "...may yet come to regret its hasty decision. Remember, not all of us agreed to this."

"That is indeed true. Nevertheless, a sufficient number of the elders have deemed the risks acceptable and that is enough," Koerin dipped his head slightly. "And as I have stated during the assembly, I am willing to shoulder all responsibility of this encounter."

"You'd better be, Koerin, for this will definitely be on your head if anything goes wrong," Haelon warned with an enraged glare before striding away, his silent companion following closely behind.

It was a short, awkward moment for the Enterprise crew before Koerin finally turned towards them. "I apologise for my colleagues' crass behaviour, Captain Archer. Haelon and Gierak were among several of the Council elders who had opposed the decision to help you out. As you can see, not all of us are in agreement with your presence here in our city."

"No... really?" Hoshi said under her breath.

Overhearing her low sarcastic remark, Archer grimaced but ignored it â€“ the very same thought had also crossed his mind. Clearing his throat, he addressed Koerin, who, for the first time since he'd initiated contact with them, looked distinctively uncomfortable. "I hope we didn't cause any riftâ€“"

"No, no... Do not worry yourselves with what just took place. Haelon and his compatriots may disapprove of what we are doing but they will abide by the Council's decision."

"I'm glad to hear that," Archer said. "Although it's understandable why they feel the way that they do."

"Still, it was unfortunate that you and your team had to bear witness to our disagreement," the old scholar shook his head, his disappointment in the confrontation evident on his lined face. Without another word, he turned continued walking, finally leading them before a large wooden door. "You should be able to communicate with your ship from here..."

Back to his original position at the rear of the group, Malcolm gave their surroundings another cursory glance before following his crewmates into the large chamber. Passing Taelek, who was waiting at the door, he returned the J'rall's greeting with a tight smile as he took a cautious step into the room. Not too far in, he stopped and looked back over one shoulder, watching intently as Taelek gently closed the door, its soft click a sudden, ominous sound to his ears.


	10. Progress

"Keep me updated on his progress every half hour. I want immediate notice if he gets any worse."

"Certainly, Captain. Phlox out."

With a grim expression, Archer closed and pocketed his communicator. He ducked his head, staring at the ground as he sought hard to gather his thoughts. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't the doctor's latest report. 

Trip's health was deteriorating fast. The last time they heard from the Denobulan, just over an hour ago, they'd all been encouraged by the remarkable recovery that the engineer had been making. _You're losing him. You've failed..._

Fists clenched tight, he flinched inwardly as the overwhelming sense of pending defeat swept over him. Quick to rein it in, Archer reminded himself harshly that, as long as Trip was alive, there was still hope. Glancing up, he met Koerin's eyes, recognising the sympathy in the other man's earnest gaze.

"I am sorry about the relapse, Captain," Koerin said gently. "But Commander Tucker must come down to the surface for the Cleansing Ceremony. It can only be performed in the most ancient chamber of the castle."

He focused on the old man's words with some difficulty, the bad news that he'd just been given still ringing in his ears. "Doctor Phlox is doing his best but Trip may be too ill to be moved right now."

"You understand that the ceremony must be conducted shortly or else it may be too lateâ€¦"

"I do," Archer replied, acknowledging the urgency in the quietly spoken statement. He knew that Phlox was doing his best up there on Enterprise. The whole problem was getting Trip down here without further endangering his life. Heaving a frustrated breath, he hoped that whatever Phlox had planned, it'd better be soon, before time ran out for his best friend.

* * *

"Nnnghhâ€¦"

Phlox looked up, eyes widening in dismay at the faint groan coming from the only presently occupied biobed. Hurrying to the patient's side, he quickly ran a bioscan, frowning at the emerging results. It wasn't good. For one thing, the amount of sedatives that he'd just been given should have had kept the Chief Engineer asleep for the next three hours or so.

It obviously hadn't.

"Doc...?" Trip rasped, disorientated. He peered blearily at the Denobulan. _What happened? What day was it?_

"Well, Commander, it seems that my medication is no match for your increased metabolism," Phlox shook his head, concern muting his normally cheery demeanor.

"Huh?" Staring with mouth slightly agape at the man standing over him, Trip tried to get significance of the words past the raw, muddled, throbbing lump that was masquerading as his head at the moment.

The very last thing he remembered was lying down on the biobed, thinking about his friends â€“ friends who were down on an alien planet, somewhere, all because of him. His heart constricted at that thought and he swallowed, choking back a startled whimper when the stabbing pain in his throat took him by surprise. 

It was difficult to focus properly, let alone talk. On top of that, his voice seemed to have decided to take a short vacation somewhere at the moment. Covering his face with his hands, he let out a soft, distraught moan, wondering what was wrong with him.

"Commander...?"

The concerned tone eventually penetrated the thick, dark cloud of frustration that had suddenly enveloped him and he peered from beneath his fingers at the Denobulan. Lowering his hands, Trip moistened dry lips with his tongue and tried again, "What... d'you... mean, just now?"

Phlox gave the unnaturally pale officer a somber look, his manner subdued. "Well, apparently, your system is purging the medication quicker than I had expected. At this rate, I may not have anything left very soon to help keep you asleep without killing you in the process."

The engineer blinked at the information, and then winced as the returning pain suddenly made itself known. To make matters worse, his chest was starting to ache again, making it exceedingly unbearable to take even a simple breath. Squeezing his eyes shut, he spent the next few seconds attempting to get air into his lungs, each inhalation an all-consuming, agonising effort.

As it turned out, he hardly noticed the soft touch of the hypospray when Phlox bent down and gave him the much-needed shot. Awareness of his surroundings only returned when the medication gradually elevated the tight, burning sensation in his chest. Slowly, Trip opened his eyes, instantly seeking out the other person in the room with him, who immediately beamed back at him.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Jus'..."

"Yes?" Phlox prompted when the other man didn't go on.

"...a lil' woozy. How..." Trip swallowed, struggling to talk. His voice was barely above a whisper. "How long... how long was I out?"

"Scarcely forty minutes, I'm afraid. That's hardly enough time for your body to rest. Or for me to move you," Phlox frowned, turning away to check on a nearby monitor.

"Move me?"

"Yes. To Launch Bay One. We need to get you down to the surface as soon as possible."

"Surface?" Trip repeated and then grimaced, feeling foolish the moment the word slipped out. With his hoarse rasp and now, a new penchant for repetition, he was beginning to sound like a damn parrot that somehow got into the medicine cabinet and was currently high on some happy drug. 

Ignoring the urge to ask if this was one of the more inane symptoms of his condition, Trip breathed out his next question. "What â€¦ for?"

"I believe it is for some sort of healing ceremony."

_Right. Ceremony. Great..._ The engineer shifted restlessly on the biobed, trying to find a spot on his body that was not sore for him to lie on. Every part seemed to be sensitive to even the lightest of contact. Hissing through his teeth at the discomfort, Trip focused pain-glazed eyes on the Denobulan.

"Okay. What... now?" he forced out the words through the soreness of his throat, coughing a little. He nodded his thanks at the glass of water that was pushed into his shaking hands, and gratefully took several slow sips.

"Well, I'm going to try a higher dosage than what is normally prescribed," Phlox said slowly, removing the now empty glass from the patient's slacked grip.

"Isn't that... a little risky?" Trip asked, noisily sucking in each precious breath of air â€“ air that wouldn't seem to come.

"Under normal conditions, yes. But with your increased metabolism, it should be relatively safe. Hopefully, the dosage will help keep you asleep long enough for us to get you down there."

Trip stared mutely at Phlox, the soft wheezing of his breathing the only sound in the sudden silence. Then his mouth twitched to form the slightest of smiles.

"Doc?"

"Yes?"

"Try not... t'kill me... in the process, 'kay?"

Recognising the familiar expression in the wry, shaky tone, Phlox felt the first prick of humour, and his spirits lifted for the first time since Tucker had unexpectedly woken up. The young officer never ceased to amaze him. Even at a time like this and in his acute condition, he could still find the words to elevate a tense moment. Phlox replied with a chuckle, "I wouldn't worry, Commander. You're in very safe hands."

With a nod, Trip closed his eyes, trying his best to relax. "I know, Doc, I know. All... right. Let's do this..."

* * *

From not too far away across the room, Malcolm watched the conversation between his Captain and the old scholar with narrowed eyes. Suppressing a sigh, the Lieutenant wished that he'd been a little nearer when the call from Enterprise came through. At least then, he'd be able to hear the report from the doctor. Although, if he were completely honest with himself, he wasn't very sure that he really wanted to know what it was all about. Judging from the look on Archer's face, it definitely wasn't good news.

Pushing his private thoughts and worries into one corner of his heart, the Lieutenant stole a glance at the ensigns with him. Hoshi was paying close attention to the conversation between Taelek and another J'rall but Travis was trying his best not to fidget while he stood beside her.

Malcolm could empathise with the young navigation officer's restlessness and impatience. Not for the first time, he wondered if there was something else that they could do to help. Although common sense told him that they really had no choice, especially considering the circumstances, Malcolm couldn't help but to wonder. That waiting had never been one of his stronger points didn't help with the situation, or elevate his tension, one bit.

"Lieutenant Reed..."

Snapping to attention, he looked across the room. "Yes, Captain?"

"We've just got word from Phlox. They're getting ready to leave Enterprise and should be here in about thirty minutes. Taelek is going to meet the shuttlepod outside the city. I want you to go with him. Take Travis and Eric with you."

Malcolm hesitated. Although there was finally something to do besides the waiting game, he wasn't really comfortable with the thought of splitting up the team and leaving a group behind with these people. Not when they still knew next to nothing of their pleasant but extremely mysterious hosts. What's more, assurances from Koerin aside, he was still somewhat leery of those who had the capability of reading another's mind. Then there was that confrontation between Koerin and his fellow elders just now...

"With all due respect, Captain..." he began, taking a step forward.

"It's okay, Malcolm," Archer interjected, understanding where the younger man was going. Although the J'ralls that were with them had been nothing but courteous and helpful so far, past experiences had taught him to be more cautious during first contact, more so when dealing with an unknown species. 

Until Trip was completely healed, though, he'd no intention of letting Koerin out of his sight. For all they knew, he might be the only key to the cure. And judging from the confrontation they'd just witnessed, he wouldn't be at all surprised if guards suddenly burst into the room and dragged their only hope away.

Grimacing inwardly at his runaway imagination, Archer reflected that Malcolm's paranoia was definitely rubbing off on him. Looking at his Tactical Officer straight in the eyes, he continued in a low voice, stressing lightly on the words, "Don't worry. We'll be all right. Just get Trip here as soon as you can."

Quickly stifling the protest that had automatically appeared on his lips, Malcolm nodded stiffly, conscious of the open curiosity of their audience.

"Aye, Sir."

* * *

"Careful now," Phlox cautioned, walking behind the medical team as they moved a gurney down the corridor. He'd made the decision to transfer the unconscious Chief Engineer to the shuttle bay the moment his vitals had stabilised enough for him to travel. Checking his medical tricorder from time to time as they made their way towards the turbolift, Phlox was elated to note that Tucker's vitals were holding steady for the moment.

They reached their destination without any complications, and the patient was swiftly loaded into Shuttlepod Two. Ensign Chris Tanner and Crewman Ryan Michaels were already there, taking over from the medical team once the Commander was properly secured for the coming journey. When everything was ready, Phlox climbed in after the ensign and pulled the door closed. At the helm, Michaels acknowledged the flight clearance from the bridge, and the small shuttle took off, heading straight for the bluish-hued planet down below.

* * *

Jonathan Archer peeked surreptitiously at the time and bit back a curse. It was now a little more than twenty hundred hours. Malcolm and his team had been gone for almost an hour. They should've been back by now. He gave up the pretense and glared at the chronometer. _What's keeping them?_

"Captain..."

His head jerking up, he glanced over at the direction of the voice. "What is it, T'Pol?"

"Koerin was wondering if you would like to see the rest of the castle while we await the return of Lieutenant Reed and his team."

For one fleeting moment, Archer was tempted to say yes but his primary concern for Trip had taken away much of the excitement of this first contact. He shook his head. "Please let Koerin know that I'll love to, but not while Trip is not yet out of danger."

"Very well," T'Pol said, turning away to relay the message. She paused and then turned back towards her commanding officer. He was lost in thought, staring unseeingly at the wall in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. 

She studied him for a moment, taking in the worry lines that fanned out about his green eyes. It wasn't hard to understand his feelings in this matter. Somehow, in his own distinctive way, Commander Tucker had also made an indelible impression in her life, although she'd never admit it to anyone else how truly important he'd become to her. It was difficult enough acknowledging that small fact to herself.

Her expression unchanged, T'Pol silently admonished herself for that slight slip, and if it was possible, pulled herself even straighter. Making a note to herself to increase the duration of her next meditation session, she allowed herself to focus on the only acceptable conclusion to all this â€“ that Commander Tucker would be all right. He was the most stubborn man she'd ever met and she knew indubitably that he would fight this to the very last. She'd always regarded that one particular characteristic of his as one of his most effective, aggravating as it was, knowing that the Commander's tenacity had helped him out of tight spots more than once.

Suppressing words of comfort hovering somewhat uncomfortably at the tip of her tongue, T'Pol took one last look at Archer before turning away, heading towards where Koerin waited with several of his people. She knew, without having to ask, that the Captain preferred some quiet time of his own at this moment, knowing how much the Commander meant to him.

Deeply submerged in his own thoughts and memories, Archer wasn't even aware of his First Officer's slight hesitation or her brief observation. All he was aware of was the constricting pain somewhere within the region of his heart, as he finally allowed himself to face the bleak thought that had hovered so closely throughout this whole time â€“ the terrifying possibility that he might just lose the one person who was the closest that he'd ever had to a younger brother.

To _family_.

Swallowing hard, he wondered what he'd do if that happened. To tell the truth, he'd never met anyone like Trip. The young officer basically looked at most things with wonder-filled eyes, making even the most mundane event seemed unique. There were times when Trip reminded him strongly of a child on Christmas morning, one who'd just been told he had a ton of presents to open. If there was one thing that he was sure of right now, it would be that space exploration would never be the same again without the gregarious engineer on board.

It was some time before he mastered his rioting emotions and looked away from the door, his green gaze finally focusing on the small group standing beside the table. He had enough of cautious responses and cryptic replies. It was time he got some real answers. With that thought in mind, Archer walked purposefully towards Koerin, who was standing beside T'Pol and Hoshi. The old scholar had a small smile on his face as he listened intently to the talented linguist.

"... many sentinels are there among your people?" Archer heard Hoshi ask as he drew nearer the small group.

"We make about 45% of our entire society." Looking towards the Starfleet Captain as he approached, Koerin asked with a warm smile, "Yes, Captain?"

"What exactly is this Cleansing Ceremony that Commander Tucker is supposed to undergo?"

Koerin leaned heavily on his staff, his amiable expression unchanged. "As I had told the Sub-Commander earlier, I am afraid that it would be impossible to explain the exact nature of the ceremony but I will try my best to do so once the rest of your people are here. However, be not at fear, it will remove from Commander Tucker the venom that is within him."

_More cryptic replies..._ Trying hard to not grind his teeth in frustration, Archer shot him a dark look and said tightly, "All right. But how many times have you actually carried this out?"

"Not too many. Although our choices are rarely wrong, the ceremony would be performed when the chosen youth had been unable to fulfill his or her calling."

"Calling? As a sentinel, you mean?"

"Yes."

"What about side effects?" the Starfleet Captain pressed on, allowing his worry and irritation to show. "Will there be any?"

All of a sudden, the weight of several pairs of eyes was upon him, their anticipation almost tangible as they anxiously awaited his response. Somberly, the old man considered the question for a moment and then gave a slow shake of his head. "No. At least, not to the best of our knowledge."

"Forgive me if that doesn't reassure me one tiny bit," Archer snapped caustically, cynicism giving a cold edge to his voice. "I'm not sure I'm willing to take the chance of losing an invaluable officer... and friend... based on that ambiguous guarantee...!"

"Please, Captain, try not to worry," Koerin said soothingly. 

Archer didn't reply but Koerin didn't have to be telepathic to know what was going through the Starfleet Captain's mind or to sense the worry that was eating him inside. Unperturbed by Archer's brusque manner, Koerin gave the scowling man a light, reassuring pat on his arm. "Things will be just fine."


	11. Journey

Crouched beside the awakening man, Phlox ran a quick scan. The shuttlepod had just touched down on the planet's surface when the Commander's eyes had begun to flutter open once more â€“ he'd been drifting in and out of consciousness for the past half hour. 

Leaning down, the Denobulan physician took a closer look at his patient. Unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, coming down to the planet was the best thing they could have done for the young officer. Tucker was still pale and ragged-looking, but some of his colour was returning and already, he looked better than he had for the past week. However, there was still one final detail that needed verification...

"Commander?" Phlox encouraged softly, his voice breaking the silence of the shuttle â€“ besides the engineer, he was the only one still on board. Tanner and Michaels were already outside the small craft, both on high alert for any uninvited guests.

Trip frowned as consciousness made itself known. For a brief moment, he fought it, a part of him remembering the pain that always seemed to accompany that certain state. Being awake hurt. A lot. Just as he was going under once more, a voice, just at the peripheral of his consciousness called out again to him. The slight line between his brows deepened as he responded to its familiar resonance.

"Commander..."

The voice called out again, and this time Trip stirred, opening his eyes to stare groggily at a face he had a feeling that he was supposed to know. It took him a while, but eventually he put a name to the man who was looking intently down at him.

"Hey... Doc..." he croaked, his features scrunching up at the pain in his throat.

"You're certainly looking better," Phlox commented with a nod. Another glance at the medical tricorder confirmed what his eyes had already ascertained and his smile grew. Tucker's vitals were slowly stabilising. If his progress continued at its current pace, in a few more hours, the engineer should be out of the critical zone.

The result of the neuroscans was even more encouraging â€“ the levels of his neurotransmitters were finally dropping. It appeared that this Koerin was correct about the gravitational force of the planet, Phlox mused distractedly. And with his cerebral activity returning to normal, the engineer's mind should be in no danger of any uninvited thoughts although, just to be safe, he'd sent the two crewmen some distance away while they awaited Malcolm and his team to rendezvous with them. "How do you feel?"

Trip blinked at the doctor's question, a soft groan escaping his cracked lips as he strove to answer. His tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip, and he tasted the blood that had dried upon it. Gratefully, he accepted the water container from Phlox and took a sip. He coughed, drawing an uneven breath. "Al'right... I guess... Some pain... chest... Can't breathe... well..."

"This should help," Phlox remarked, very glad for the spark of recognition in the blue eyes and the lucid responses that he'd received so far. Until the Commander had spoken, he'd been, to a certain extent, concerned that there might be some serious brain damage. Never had he'd been more delighted to be wrong about something. Injecting the contents of a hypospray into Trip's neck, he made a brief note in his PADD as he watched the engineer's laboured breathing gradually quieten.

His discomfort fading, Trip looked around at his surroundings with burgeoning interest before meeting the Denobulan's steady gaze. "We're in... a 'pod...?"

"Yes, we've just arrived on the surface of the planet."

"Surface...? Planet?" Trip repeated in confusion. Then realisation slowly dawned with the emergence of a faint memory of a previous conversation. "...some sort... ceremony...?" he finished weakly, looking up at Phlox for confirmation. He relaxed a little at the nod he received, but his fair brows soon drew together once more. "Cap'n...?"

"We'll be meeting them soon enough," Phlox hurriedly assured the young man. He turned away, moving towards the helm but not before advising gently, "Right now, try and get some rest."

"Doc?"

Halting in mid-turn, Phlox looked back to the Chief Engineer, whose mouth was slightly upturned in a faint grin. "Yes, Commander?"

"Guess this means... I survived t'process, huh...?"

Phlox chuckled. "Yes, it certainly does." His smile faded as he issued the drowsy officer a stern edict, "Now, rest..."

Trip sighed but complied without any further argument, lying back on the makeshift bed while the doctor bustled about nearby. Lulled by the low, muffled sounds around him, his eyes closed and he allowed himself to drift off into sleep.

* * *

Malcolm Reed had never been so glad to see a sleeping figure in his life. The Commander even looked peaceful, as opposed to the tormented man that he was the last time that he'd set eyes on him. Trip's face had lost most of the tense, haggard look that had been a constant companion in the past week, even during a drugged sleep. 

Now, except for the faint flush on his cheeks, an indication of his slight fever, and the dark smudges under his eyes, the engineer looked his normal everyday self. Well, almost his normal everyday self, Malcolm corrected with a wince, but not quite. Already lean to begin with, Trip now appeared painfully thin, and his seemingly all-too-frail body clearly showed the unmistakable ravages of his recent distress.

He sighed tiredly, running hand through his short, dark hair. At least things were looking up right now â€“ Trip was finally down on the surface, and help was well within reach. All they had to do was to get him to the castle, to where Koerin was waiting for them.

But what if they were already too late...?

Grimacing at his tendency to think the worst of any situation, Malcolm quickly shoved that depressing thought to the back of his mind before it could take hold. This was not the time to be pessimistic. Turning away from his slumbering friend, he used the next few seconds to gather himself, perfunctorily introducing Taelek to a beaming Phlox at the same time. After the doctor had had a quick word with their guest, Malcolm questioned quietly, "It's true then? He's better?"

"Yes, he is."

"That's great news, right?" he asked, all at once uneasy at the strange expression that had flashed across the physician's face. Phlox was suddenly serious, his usual smile nowhere in sight.

"Well, yes..."

There was something else. What wasn't the doctor saying? His own expression turning grim, Malcolm kept his eyes on the still figure and, with a desperate wish that he didn't have to ask gnawing at him, he said cagily, "What is it...?"

"As incredible as they are, the improvements in his health appear to be temporary. According to the most recent scans, some of his symptoms are already returning. Admittedly more slowly and somewhat imperceptible at the moment but they're coming back. He's weakening fast."

Realising that he'd been holding his breath while he listened to the answer, Malcolm let it out in a soft whoosh. "Good grief. But how? I thoughtâ€“?"

"Yes, well, although the Commander may no longer be susceptible to the thoughts of others down here, the damage that his body had sustained during the past week is finally taking a toll on his health," Phlox explained. "We need to get him back to Enterprise as soon as the ceremony is over."

"Of course, Doctor," Taelek spoke up, commanding their attention. The young Sentinel had been listening intently at the brief conversation between the two crewmates and he didn't like the discouraging note that it contained. Even to his untrained eyes, he could tell that the focus of their attention was not doing so well physically. With a graceful sweep of his hand, he gestured towards the open hatch. "Come, we should leave for the castle at once."

* * *

"They're on their way," Archer informed the expectant group gathered before him, pocketing the communicator after Malcolm had signed off.

"Excellent!" Koerin exclaimed. "Come, we shall await them at the Healing Chamber."

"Out of curiosity, just why did the psŷc go for Trip in the first place?" Archer asked as the group made their way out of the main chamber through another door.

"It is drawn to powerful cerebral activity like thoughts or strong emotions."

"Strong emotions...?"

"Yes, usually, we use concentration to draw the _psŷc_ to us," Koerin clarified, turning the narrow corridor. "Emotions such as intense anger or happiness may also have the same effect on it. In fact, Taelek was doing just that when the _psŷc_ suddenly flew off, towards where we know now was Commander Tucker's position."

"I see..." Archer muttered. He was beginning to wonder if something else happened down on the planet that day.

"Commander Tucker was aggravated at the time," T'Pol offered at Archer's pointed glance.

He shot her another quick look, one that demanded an expansion of that simple statement. "Aggravated?"

"We had a minor... difference of opinion prior to the incident."

"A minor difference of opinion..." he said dryly with a raised brow, unconsciously emulating his Science Officer's well-known gesture perfectly. Somehow, her answer came as no surprise to him. He gave an inward sigh of exasperation, wondering if the two of them will ever be able to spend any time together without getting on each other nerves after the first ten minutes. Seeing that T'Pol was about to elaborate further, he quickly spoke up with a slight grimace, "Never mind, I don't think I want to know..."

* * *

"Where're... we goin' now?"

His head whipping around at the whispered question, Malcolm met the shadowed, bewildered gaze of the man lying stretched out on the gurney, while the Denobulan ran a quick scan. Phlox had sedated the engineer before they left the shuttlepod, but like previous occasions, Tucker's high metabolism had somehow made short work of the medication, allowing him to wake up earlier than intended.

"Commander!" the Lieutenant exclaimed, his pleasure at Trip's return to consciousness evident on his normally stoic face.

"Hey... Malcolm," Trip greeted softly before returning Travis's delighted smile. He gave the rest a weak grin. "Nice... of you guys... to drop in... for a visit."

"We wouldn't miss it for the world," Malcolm stated wryly. "Although, technically, you're the one who's visiting, since this time, we were down here first."

"Oh yeah..." Rubbing tired, red-rimmed eyes with one hand, Trip looked up at his friends, a pang of guilt hitting him hard as he realised how exhausted they all looked. "Travis?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"You... feelin' okay?"

Travis grinned. "Isn't that supposed to be my question?"

"...thought ... change would be... refreshin'..."

While the others chuckled at the engineer's answer, one man met Phlox's somber gaze, who gave him an almost indiscernible shake of his head. Malcolm didn't really need the doctor to tell him what he already knew â€“ he could hear it in Trip's voice, the breathless, wheezing rasp of it a far cry from his normal pleasant drawl.

"Well," Phlox broke in, giving the young officer a stern look. "It's still a little too soon for your next dose of medication so I'd like you to please take things easy for now."

"I will, Doc... Thanks." Trip turned his head to one side, and suddenly went still, eyeing the unfamiliar figure curiously. "Who are you...?"

The query was directed at Taelek, who until now, had hung back slightly from the rest of the group, allowing the men to reassure themselves with their Chief Engineer's well-being. With a smile, he promptly stepped closer to the gurney and, after giving the fascinated engineer a short bow, quickly introduced himself.

"...and you're telepathic?"

Malcolm sighed as his attention drifted back to the conversation between the two men. It hadn't taken long for the affable engineer to bond with Taelek, who was equally intrigued with his conversation partner himself, and had answered all of Trip's questions readily.

"Yes." The head bobbed earnestly. "Much like you â€“ at the moment, at least."

Trip grunted. "I'm not so sure... I like it very much... How d'you... stand the pain?"

"Ahh, Commander," Taelek smiled. "But what you are experiencing is not what it should be, due to your human physiology. There should not be any pain."

"Damn... short changed," Trip quipped softly before falling silent, causing Malcolm to marvel at his friend's ability to joke even when he was obviously not well. The engineer's exhaustion was also becoming more apparent with each passing moment â€“ even the simple task of making conversation evidently was using too much of his fast depleting strength. Malcolm was turning to check on the rest of the group when the faint twang floated over.

"...the Cap'n?... And T'Pol? Hoshi? Are they... are they all right?"

Surprised, he looked down. Trip was so quiet after the last time he spoke that Malcolm was sure he'd finally fallen asleep.

"Yes, don't worry. They're waiting for us at the castle..." Malcolm answered with a frown, distracted by the other man's pallor. Except for the twin flushes that coloured his cheeks, the Commander was too pale for his liking.

"There's... a castle?" Trip whispered, his fatigue temporarily forgotten in light of that new and fascinating detail.

Nodding, Travis launched into an enthusiastic description of the majestic stronghold, with occasional comments from Ensign Eric Foster. Tanner and Michaels, with the gurney held steadily between them, punctuated the conversation with some of their own questions and remarks. Everyone soon joined in and the near silence of the forest was broken by their voices and sporadic laughter.

Listening closely but not saying much, Malcolm had to admit that it was really good to hear the familiar drawl again, despite the tired, rough edge to it. All the same, participation in the ongoing conversation didn't take away the fact that the Commander was currently burning up with fever, in spite of the antibiotics that Phlox had continually pumped into him. 

Malcolm cast his friend a troubled look, remembering his alarm when he'd felt the scorching heat radiating from the man through his uniform. It was also clear that, instead of resting like he should, the sick man was struggling hard to keep his eyes open. _Stubborn bugger..._

"Perhaps you should try and get some sleep..." the Lieutenant quickly took the opportunity to voice his concern when a bout of coughing overtook Trip in mid-question, only to earn himself an exasperated glare from the engineer for his trouble.

"But that's the only thing... that I've been doing... for the past few days," came the slurred protest. "D-Doc...tor's... orders..."

Right on cue, Phlox appeared beside the gurney, running another scan with the medical tricorder in one hand and a hypospray in another. "Now, Commander, remember what I said about taking things easy? It's time for you to rest..."

"S-See what... I mean...?" Trip looked pointedly at Malcolm, accompanying his quiet complaint with a helpless shrug as the amiable Denobulan adeptly secured the thick blanket tighter around him. He winced when he felt the familiar sting of the hypospray at the side of his neck.

His mouth twitching at the annoyed look on his friend's flushed face, Reed stated in an even tone, "Doctor Phlox is right, Commander. You do need the rest..."

Looking up at the anxious faces staring down at him, Trip knew that they had a point. He couldn't recall the last time he'd felt this bad. Even lying down, his head was swimming and he was starting to be more than a little queasy. And his last sentence, short as it was, just about left him breathless. Closing burning eyes against the fading light â€“ Taelek had mentioned that dusk would usually start at about 2200 hours â€“ Trip struggled to ignore the ache that was building up within his chest.

If only it didn't hurt so much to take in a simple, single lungful of air.

"'Kay," came his almost inaudible acquiesce after a moment. Another wave of pain lanced through him, and Trip turned his damp head to one side, hiding his distress at its vicious sting. And, try as he might, he couldn't seem to stop from trembling either. White knuckles gripping the sides of the gurney hard, the exhausted engineer forced himself to focus on the low murmur of the voices around him, seeking the familiar, calming reassurance that came with it.

He was thankful for the close presence of his friends. They were the only comforting factor in the sea of pain that he was in. He savoured the sound of their quiet conversation, even if he could hardly make out any of the words, allowing it to soothe his battered mind and body. The dose of medication soon took hold, and he didn't notice when sleep crept up from behind to claim him. Long, rigid fingers gradually uncurling, he drifted off, missing the looks of grave concern that passed between the men as they watched his tense, fevered body finally relaxed in a much needed rest.


	12. Quandary

They'd just exited the forest, and were almost to the edge of the clearing, when it happened. Travis was the first person to spot the men, being a little in front of the small group and he promptly halted to a stop. 

"Lieutenant Reedâ€¦" he called out warningly over one shoulder, his hand going immediately to the holster of his phase pistol.

"Easy, Ensign," Malcolm said quietly, leaving Trip's side after a quick word with Tanner and Michaels, and halting beside the younger man. 

"Let's see what they want first," he added, his own reservations firmly masked beneath his calm demeanor. The short demonstration that they'd witnessed back at the castle came abruptly to mind and he licked his suddenly dry lips. _Even with phase pistols, we don't have a bloody chance against them and they bloody well know it..._

"Please, let me deal with this, Lieutenant Reed," the quiet request sounded from his other side and Malcolm's eyes flickered momentarily to their guide before returning to the tall J'rall standing imperiously before them. Flanking him on either side were two others, and like their leader, each eyed the wary Enterprise team with an equally frosty glare. It didn't take a tactical officer to recognise the extreme hostility in their stance.

Or the sheer rage simmering in their leader's cold, jade eyes.

* * *

Archer was about to reply to a remark that Koerin had just made when he noticed the odd expression on the man's face. The green eyes had taken a faraway look and there was an intense frown drawing the thick, snow-white brows together.

"What is it?" he asked, feeling his insides turn to ice at the dark look that had quickly replaced the strange, preoccupied expression. Why did he have that terrible feeling that he wasn't going to like the answer he was about to get? "Koerin?"

"I am afraid there might be an unfortunate development that we will need to address immediately."

The scholar's grim answer caused Archer's heart to sink even further. Turning, he caught T'Pol's steady gaze just as the old J'rall spun on his heels and walked resolutely towards the door, his face more forbidding than any one of them had ever seen before. This was definitely not good.

"Come with me at once, Captain Archer," Koerin called out from over his shoulder without breaking his stride. "We need to hurry."

* * *

His hand suspended steadily above his own weapon holster, Malcolm reflected with a derisive twist of his lips that the men definitely brought a whole new meaning to the phrase 'if only looks could kill'. It was almost a wonder that none of them had dropped dead in a smouldering heap just yet, considering the intensity of the gaze that was being levelled at their group at the moment. Without turning his head, he asked evenly, "Who are they?"

"The leader of the three is called Daevin. He is one of Master Haelon's protÃ©gÃ©. I do not know much about the other two who are with him, other save that they entered the training academy less than half a year before I did," Taelek answered, sliding a sideways look at the Starfleet Officer.

Malcolm shifted slightly on the balls of his feet. "I've seen friendlier faces..."

"Indeed," Taelek murmured in agreement, glancing briefly at the tense, unsmiling countenance of his new friend. "Unfortunately, I fear that they are not here to offer us any assistance." 

Acknowledging Malcolm's low caution to be careful with an almost imperceptible nod of his head, he turned to address their unexpected company, his features carefully arranged in a neutral mask. "Good wishes, Daevin."

"Good wishes, Taelek," Daevin returned the greeting curtly.

"Why are you all here? Is everything all right in the city?"

"Everything is... fine â€” so far." The laconic response only increased Malcolm's unease on what he feared was about to take place. Wildly, he wondered if the J'ralls could teleport, suddenly wishing Koerin was here to deal with this matter, knowing instinctively that Taelek was no match for the three men. The same was true for the rest of them, he added silently, even if they did hold the advantage in numbers.

"All right. Is there something I can do for you then?" Taelek asked equably, taking a close look at the older, more experienced defender of the city, who in turn was having a fixed stare at the people behind him. He didn't know Daevin that well, except that he was a first-rate sentinel and had a reputation of being more than a little impetuous at times. Grimacing at the thought, he just hoped this wasn't one of those moments. Although, judging from the harsh expression on the man's face, he'd be surprised if it wasn't.

"No, there is not," the tall J'rall answered brusquely. "I am not here for you, Taelek, but for those who are with you."

That brought a confused frown to the younger man's face. "What do you mean? These people are our guestsâ€“"

"They are **interlopers!** " Daevin interrupted with an irate glare. "Master Haelon was right. They should have never been brought to the city!"

"What are you saying? Master Koerin..."

"Master Koerin's judgement in this matter is _flawed_!" Daevin hissed, his emerald eyes bright with fury. "His compassion has led him to initiate contact with these people. They will bring nothing but disorder to us, especially should they continue remain in our city."

Taelek stiffened, feeling his own anger rising. With some effort, he reined it in, and spoke with forced calm. "No, it is you, and Master Haelon, who are in the wrong, Daevin. This whole situation is no fault of theirs. It was a _psŷc_ , one of our creatures,which has caused Commander Tucker's current condition. He is ill because of us."

"We are not the cause of anything," came the terse retort. "If they had not come down to our planet in the first place, none of this would have happened."

"What would you have us do, Daevin?" Taelek asked, waving a hand around. "Cloak the whole planet so that no one will find us? We have had visitors here for many generations. They come, and then they leave, none the wiser of our existence."

"Until now..."

"Yes, until now," Taelek conceded grudgingly. "But it was all an unforeseen incident. No one could have predictedâ€“"

"They should not have been down here in the first place!"

Gritting his teeth at the obstinacy of the man, the frustrated J'rall then proceeded to try another line of argument. Perhaps it may help jolt some sense back into Daevin. "The Council has already made its decisionâ€“"

"The Council... Hah! Not all of us are as naÃ¯ve... or as gullible as you, Taelek. No, you know, as well as I do, that these _humans_..." the older man spat out the word as if it left a horrid taste in his mouth, "...and their friends will bring nothing but destruction to our way of life. Look what happened the last time when the Council agreed to help out complete strangers..."

Or perhaps not.

Taelek shook his head at his colleague's flawed reasoning and scowled, but ignored the personal attacks on himself. He had more urgent things to deal with at the moment than something so trivial. In some way, he could empathise with Daevin, insight to the origins of the other's pain helped, but he knew that the older man was allowing something that had gone by a long time ago to dictate his current actions. 

"You are mixing the past with the present, Daevin," he said, holding the other's heated gaze. "You need to allow what happened so long ago to remain where it should be â€“ in the past. These people are not the sameâ€“"

" **They** are no different! How do we know that once these strangers have what they want, they will not seek to annihilate our people?"

" **Enough!** This conversation is over, Daevin," Taelek declared sharply, turning away. Clearly, there was no reasoning with the older J'rall at this point, especially considering his current state of mind, and he had neither the time nor the energy right now to cater to the man's irrational fear or to find a way past his innate distrust of their guests. "If you would excuse us, time is of the essence and I â€” we... need to get Commander Tucker to the castle without any further delay."

"Oh, no one is stopping you from returning to the castle, Taelek," Daevin said smoothly, causing Taelek to pause in mid turn. He waited until he had the younger J'rall's full attention â€“ until Taelek was facing him once more â€“ before continuing icily, "But your... _companions_ are another matter altogether. They are not going anywhere near Gardien City again."

Malcolm was startled to hear the venom in the incensed J'rall's voice. He didn't think it was possible for there to be so much hatred in one person. From the look on the others' faces, he didn't think they did either. Catching Travis' eyes, he shook his head, silently ordering the younger man to wait, wanting to give Taelek more time to deal with the situation.

"What? Have you gone mad? What are you planning on doing?"

"Just something to rectify this entire mistake," Daevin replied, eyes glittering with pure malice. He took a step forward, hands clenched tightly at his sides. 

"Out of the way, Taelek," he ordered the younger J'rall, who had immediately shifted protectively in front of Malcolm and the others.

_Just something to rectify this entire mistake?_ Taelek's mouth thinned at the disquieting allusion behind that simple phrase and he glowered angrily at his fellow J'rall.

"You know I cannot do that, Daevin," he answered, standing his ground, determination on his young face. He swallowed, hoping that his fear was not visible to the three men who were glaring back at him. Although Master Koerin had conveyed to him many times that he was a gifted sentinel, he'd never faced down anyone this powerful before, let alone three at one go. "I have been asked to escort them to the castle, and that is precisely what I am going to do."

"If you would not move, I will move you myself!" Daevin snarled, and before anyone could react to that statement, Taelek was unceremoniously hurled across the air, as if something had physically lifted him off his feet and thrown him, hard. Immobile with shock, Malcolm and his men could only watch as Taelek hit the trunk of a tree with a sickening thud before sliding bonelessly to the ground in a limp, crumpled heap.

Travis immediately ran to the unmoving man's side, with Phlox following closely behind. 

"He's all right," the navigation officer called out, relaying the doctor's findings to the concerned faces looking back at them after a short, tense moment. "He has a slight lump on the back of the head but it's nothing too serious."

Malcolm kept his gaze on the fallen man, his relief growing as the figure on the ground stirred slightly, showing encouraging signs of regaining consciousness. Once Phlox had assured him with a short nod that Taelek was going to be fine, Malcolm then turned his attention towards their aggressors, meeting the lead J'rall's look of contempt stoically. Hope flickered within him; he hadn't missed the uneasy glances that were exchanged between the men behind Daevin during the attack on Taelek. It was clear that none of them had expected whatever that just took place to happen.

Taking a deep breath, Daevin nursed a private relief at the younger J'rall's prognosis and wondered how he'd managed to let things get so much out hand in the first place. It was never his intention to harm anyone but he'd permitted his temper to get the best of him and Taelek's injury had been the result of that slip. Ruthlessly, he squashed the twinge of remorse brought on by the sight of Taelek's pale face and focused on the main reason they were here â€“ to get these individuals off their planet.

And he would use any means possible to accomplish that objective.

His face thoroughly devoid of any expression, Daevin allowed his cold gaze to run across the faces of the people in front of him, coming to a stop before the face of their leader, a lean, dark-haired man with antagonistic grey eyes. His own eyes narrowed as he took in the defiant look that was aimed back at him. "And you are?"

"Lieutenant Malcolm Reed of the Starfleet vessel _Enterprise_."

"And where is the one whom you call Tucker, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed of the Starfleet vessel _Enterprise_?" the smooth deep voice continued in a lazy, faintly mocking tone.

"Somewhere safe." Malcolm's bluff was short and abrupt. However, Daevin's bright green eyes flickered briefly to a spot on somewhere to his right and Malcolm's heart sank. 

Following his instructions, Tanner and Michaels had already lowered the gurney below a shady tree, away from Daevin and his men but close enough for the team to keep an eye out on the sleeping man. He hoped that the three were not about to start a search â€“ Trip may be well out of sight of these people but he wasn't exactly hidden away.

"Is that so...?" It was clearly a rhetorical question.

"What is it that you want from us?" Malcolm asked acerbically after a heartbeat, hoping to distract the man. He was conscious of the fact that they had to get Trip back to the castle before any further delay. They'd already wasted more time than they could afford with this standoff. And the way the sentinel was acting... he swallowed as a powerful image came to mind â€“ of a predator toying with its prey before delivering the final, and killing, stroke.

"Nothing but your immediate departure from our planet," Daevin replied flatly, looking away from the base of a huge tree to meet the eyes of the man standing before him. His anger had dissipated, having already run its course, and he now gazed at the visitors with his usual apathy, his glare practically glacial. "If you turn around and leave now, naught will happen to you... or your friends."

"The Captain and the others?"

"Your people who are still at the castle will also be allowed to leave safely, provided that they do so at once, and without any fuss."

Malcolm wondered how the man was going to pull that stunt off, seeing that Koerin and the other Elders were at the castle with the remaining _Enterprise_ crew. Most probably with Haelon's help, and whoever else who were against the idea of having them in the city in the first place, he thought with a contemptuous look at Daevin. His hands fisted and he bit out his next question, "What about Commander Tucker?"

The green eyes narrowed. "What about him?"

"Are you just going to let him die?"

"What if we are?"

"Surely you can't mean that," Phlox spoke up from beside a groggy Taelek, whom Travis had helped into a sitting position. Daevin turned towards him, and the Denobulan continued sternly, disapproval radiating from his voice, "Commander Tucker is badly in need of help. If you have the means to do so..."

One bright red and orange eyebrow lifted in a condescending arch. "Whether we are able to help your crewmate or not is irrelevant hereâ€“"

"You bloody well know that it's relevant!" Malcolm snapped, furious at the icy, detached demeanor of the man. He wasn't about to let one of his closest friends die just because some of the inhabitants of the planet were suddenly inflicted with a severe case of xenophobia. "Getting the cure for Commander Tucker is the only reason we're all down here in the first place!"

"If that is the case, I might as well put him out of his misery right now so you may all leave... and we may be left in peace!" Daevin declared coldly and, to their collective horror, behind the trunk of the tree where they thought that he'd been well hidden away, the engineer's body bucked as he began to choke.

With his airway cut off, Trip Tucker was slowly suffocating to death.


	13. Choices

" **NO!** " Malcolm bellowed, rushing forward. "Stop that! Let him go, you sick bastâ€“" 

The rest of his angry words abruptly died in his throat as he staggered to a stop, gasping, his hands immediately flying to his neck. With growing desperation, he clawed at whatever that seemed to be choking off his airway â€“ he couldn't breathe, there didn't seem to be enough air for him to do so. A strangled sound escaped him when his suddenly rubbery legs proceeded to fold from under him, and like a man caught in a nightmare that he absolutely had no control over, he felt his body slowly tilt forward.

"Sir!" Travis called out fearfully as both he and Chris Tanner rushed to Malcolm's side, managing to catch the senior officer just before he hit the ground. By now, Travis was frantic with worry â€“ Trip's struggles were weakening fast and he could see that Malcolm was just moments from blacking out. 

He raise d his phase pistol and was about to fire â€“ his intuition told him that it would be a futile attempt, he'd seen how powerful these people were but he knew that he had to at least give it a try â€“ when an angry roar cut through the air, effectively freezing everyone in their tracks.

"! **What on Jerall's Moon is going on here?!** "

They all turned towards the source of the livid voice; Daevin and his followers' faces turning pale at the sight of the four people striding up towards them, with Koerin in the lead, while relief coloured the expressions of the ones in Malcolm's group.

"Daevin! What is the meaning of this?"

"Release them at once!"

To Malcolm, on his hands and knees, with spots dancing at the peripherals of his vision, both Healon's outraged exclamation and Koerin's furious command might as well be from another planet altogether. All that he was aware of was his hammering heart and the roaring thunder in his ears, the struggle to stay conscious taking precedence above everything else. 

Suddenly, the invisible cord that was fast tightening around his neck was gone and he collapsed onto the ground, coughing but being able to breathe again. Helped by two sets of hands â€“ he realised belatedly that Travis and Chris were beside him â€“ Malcolm sat up, one hand at his throat, and spent the next few minutes raggedly drawing in gulps of precious air.

"Malcolm?"

"I'm... fine, Sir." Croaking in automatic response to the concerned query, Malcolm barely registered Archer's brief presence or the firm, reassuring squeeze on his shoulder before the Captain was gone. He turned his head towards where the gurney lay â€“ where Archer was currently crouched down beside â€“ worry hitting him at the sight that met his blurry gaze.

Trip's glazed blue eyes were like saucers, appearing entirely too big for his face, but there was a chillingly blank look in them, a fact that didn't escape the man currently bent over him. The engineer's hands were at his throat, and he was coughing uncontrollably. 

Archer winced at the slight wheezing sound in each laboured breath. Putting his hands gently on the trembling shoulders, Archer leaned closer, trying to calm the agitated man down. "Trip..."

He felt something clamp down onto his shoulders and flinched. He was caught! Whatever that was holding him was going to try to kill him again. He needed to get away. 

"No! G-Get offa me!" Trip hollered weakly, struggling ineffectively against the hands that were holding him down. "Lemme... g-go, d-dammit!"

" **Trip!** Calm down!" Archer gave the lost man a little shake and was relieved to see recognition seeping in, slowly replacing the raw fright in his wild eyed gaze. The rigid muscles beneath his hands relaxed as he felt the tension leaking out of the engineer's body. "It's okay... It's okay..."

"C-Cap'n?" The choked, whispered response was so slight that Archer almost missed it. Trip blinked, confusion on his handsome face. He shook his head, trying to clear it. What happened? All he could remember was an alarming sensation of danger. His eyes widened. Danger! He had to warn the others before it was too late... He sat up in a rush but sank back, a groan escaping his parched lips when the pain skyrocketed and whole world grew dim on him once more. He pushed at the other's hands weakly. "No, g-go 'way... run... n-not s-safe..."

"Easy, Trip..." Archer said, one hand supporting the sick officer between his shoulder blades as he gently lowered the engineer back onto the gurney. "Easy... Everything's all right..."

"Allow me, Captain."

With great reluctance, Archer moved aside, allowing Phlox take over his place beside the engineer. He was glad to hear the harsh wheezing sound die off as the administered drug quickly took hold. Trip's breathing gradually evened out and he settled back into sleep â€“ oblivious to the current tension twisting around him â€“ a pale, still figure among the growing pandemonium.

* * *

After the initial, explosive uproar between mentors and their apprentices, the relative calm that followed seemed to be obnoxiously loud to Jonathan Archer. He stood nearby, a tall, silent ghost â€“ his composed outer appearance belying the chaotic feelings that were within him â€“ watching as Phlox continued with his scans. 

He knew, that for as long as he lived, he was never going to forget the sight that greeted him when he and T'Pol walked into the clearing that day after Koerin and Haelon. Two of his best men, one unconscious, the other close to it, were being slowly being asphyxiated while the rest of their team stood helplessly by.

Each crewman had had his phase pistol out and while only Travis's gun was aimed directly at Daevin, Archer knew that it wouldn't have made much of a difference if he, or any of the men, had fired. He sincerely doubted that the shot would've had been able to penetrate the immeasurable mental shield of the three J'ralls. All the same, Archer was proud of his men, especially of the Helm Officer. All of them had been poised to defend their fallen friends, regardless of the consequences to themselves.

They were the kind of officers that he was proud to have serving onboard the _Enterprise_ , the ones who cared and looked out for another, not because they had to, but because it was what they wanted to do. After seeing to Trip and Malcolm, he'd patted the shaken young man on the shoulder, wordlessly conveying to Travis his approval, before moving away. A faint rustling sound to his right told him that he was no longer alone and he turned his head slightly to find Koerin by his side.

"How is he?" he asked, referring to the man's injured protÃ©gÃ©, who was now sitting up on his own, leaning somewhat haphazardly against the tree trunk that he'd been thrown against. He was waving a hand around as he talked to T'Pol while she ran a scan on him. Daevin and his men had already returned to the city with Healon, the furious Elder significantly upset by the discovery that his apprentices were capable of such blatant violence against another.

"Taelek will be fine."

"That's good..."

Koerin turned, taking in the pensive profile of his conversation partner. It wasn't hard to read the mixture of anger, apprehension and fear in the wide green eyes. "Thank you, Captain. And your men?"

"Other than Commander Tucker, they're okay. Just a little shaken..." Archer answered distractedly, his gaze fixed upon Phlox as the doctor finished up his examination of the two men. The rest of the crew hovered nearby, identical looks of concern marring each face. Even from this distance, he could tell that Trip was not doing well and his hands fisted in helpless fury. He was so caught up in his thoughts that it took him a while to realise that Koerin was speaking again.

"...apologise for Daevin's atrocious behaviour. Do you remember the almost similar incident I spoke of earlier? The one that took place many generations ago?" Koerin asked. 

He waited for the silent bob of the head before continuing, "His family was one of the several... casualties... of that encounter. His bloodline was almost wiped out then, only the fast thinking actions of an Elder saved the last surviving member of the ill-fated family. We did not expect him to carry such a hatred for outsiders because of what happened so long ago."

Archer blinked, a portion of his mind automatically assimilating the information while the other part of him raged on. He couldn't yet get himself to forgive the young J'rall for almost killing two of his senior officers, but he was beginning to understand the reason behind what appeared to be a seemingly indiscriminate and irrational attack. 

"Still," he began heatedly, "that was no excuseâ€“"

"I agree, Captain Archer, whatever that took place just now should never had happened. Be assured that Daevin and his friends will be well and suitably dealt with by the Council for their rash actions."

The old man's calm acquiescence quickly defused Archer's flash of anger and he gave a deep sigh, suddenly feeling much older than his actual years. This had been an extremely long day, it didn't look as if it was going to come to a close anytime soon â€“ and he was beginning to feel the after-effects of the constant tension that rode on his shoulders, ever since Trip's collapse outside the Armoury less than twenty-four hours ago. Had it only been yesterday? Running a weary hand across his face, he slid a sideways glance at the robed man. "How'd you know?"

Koerin didn't ask for any more clarification, knowing exactly what Archer was asking. He turned his eyes towards his young apprentice, who was now walking around with the help of Ensign Foster. "Taelek sent me a telepathic call for help the moment he spotted Daevin and his men."

"He expected trouble?"

"No, he did not. But after the confrontation with Healon, I told him before he left with Lieutenant Reed that he should call me should he see anything that was even remotely out of place. He must have sensed something when the three of them suddenly appeared like that."

"I'm glad he did what he did. You've trained him well."

Koerin nodded, indicating his thanks. "And you yourself have a wonderful crew, Captain. You should be proud."

"I am, Koerin, I am."

* * *

It was an abnormally quiet group that lingered on the outer side of the large wooden door. During the remaining part of the journey to the castle, Trip was so still that, at first glance, he appeared to be dead. The only evidence of life he showed was the slight, periodic rise of his chest. As Phlox had feared, the Commander's condition had started to deteriorate not long after he'd fallen asleep and the attack had only served to aggravate his fairly serious condition. By the time the somewhat frantic group had reached the castle, the engineer had already slipped into a deep coma.

Koerin, alarmed by the unexpected development, had quickly asked the men to move him into the chamber, before directing Taelek and Phlox inside as well. With an apologetic nod, he'd then closed the door behind him, leaving whatever that was left of the away team on the other side to pass the time in a restless wait.

While T'Pol stood in almost unnatural stillness, Archer was not as restrained about showing how he felt, his worry obvious as he paced up and down the narrow corridor. Nearby, Travis, Hoshi, Malcolm, Tanner and Michaels formed small groups of their own. Other than the two J'rall stationed in front of the door, the seven of them were the only ones there, Archer having ordered Cutler, Foster and Novakovich to return to _Enterprise_ fifteen minutes ago.

Hoshi sighed inwardly, taking another peek at the man beside her, who was, even now, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. From his hard, rigid stance, she could tell that Malcolm was still very wary of their alien hosts. Not that she'd blamed him, especially in light of what just happened outside the city, but he was so tense that she was worried he might just snap into two if he kept it up. Giving him a gentle nudge with her elbow, she waited until he turned distracted eyes towards her.

"He's in good hands. Try and relax..."

Eyebrows rising, Malcolm blinked once in surprise and then shook his head. "There'll be plenty of time to do that once we're onboard and away from here."

"The J'ralls mean well," Hoshi stated earnestly, placing one hand on his arm, earning herself another look of mild surprise from the Tactical Officer. "Especially Koerin and Taelek. I'm sure they're doing everything they can for him."

His eyes flickering for a moment to her small hand resting upon his forearm before coming to rest on the large wooden door and the unreadable faces of the guards guarding it, Malcolm ran her words through his mind. He wasn't exactly sure what they could do if things did turn ugly, like they had back in the forest, but he was sure that they'd think of something. After all, everyone has a weakness somewhere, even seemingly invincible telepathic-telekinetic beings.

And if they looked hard enough, they'd find it. Eventually.

The incongruity of the notion did not escape him and his mouth twisted sardonically â€“ Malcolm Reed, pessimistic extraordinaire who, at this point, appeared to be in the very first stages of rehabilitation. Now he was sure that he'd been spending far too much time in the Commander's presence â€“ some of the man's interminable, and sometimes exasperating, optimism had even rubbed off on him, if that particular thought was any indication. 

Gingerly fingering the sore areas around his throat, Malcolm forced his thoughts to the present and bit out a toneless reply, his softly spoken words sending a slight chill down Hoshi's spine. 

"They'd better make bloody sure that they do..."

* * *

With a peculiar sense of detachment, Trip reflected that perhaps dying wasn't such a bad thing after all. Of course, the darkness that currently engulfed him might have something to do with his current assessment of things. There was something different about it, something... soothing. 

He was strangely comforted by its ubiquitous presence as he floated within the deep black nothingness. The best part of it all was, for the first time in what seemed to be an eternity, there wasn't any pain, which basically had been a constant companion of his every waking moment for the past week.

He might've hidden it effectively from his friends, but he'd be lying to himself if he'd said that he'd coped well with everything that had happened â€“ the visions, the confusion and most of all, the pain. There had been times that he simply didn't even care anymore; all he wanted was for everything to stop, to go back to the way things were before that damned insect added that extra something into his bloodstream.

There wasn't any doubt in his mind that the only thing that had kept him going throughout the whole experience was the support of his friends, especially from Jon. Unfortunately, the very thought of the people that he cared about only intensified the ache within the region of his heart, the pain bringing tears to his eyes. But the anguished man welcomed the sharp excruciating twinge; it was a poignant reminder of what he'd been forced to give up. A ghost of a sigh escaped him. _It'd been a great ride while it lasted, Cap'n, hasn't it? ... Sorry I couldn't be there t'complete the mission with you and the others..._

Trip drew in a sharp breath, mourning his loss. What he regretted more, however, was the missed opportunity to say his goodbyes to the people who mattered most to him. A cynical smile twisted his lips as he wondered if he was really prepared for the upcoming journey, one that none of his family or friends would be able to follow just yet. His soft humourless half laugh pierced the suffocating silence at the irony of his question. It wasn't as if he had much of a choice in the matter, noting without much interest that he was now more or less in an upright position. It wasn't much of an improvement, considering that he still couldn't see anything past his nose.

But it was definitely better than an aimless drift in the dark.

It was funny; some of the stories that he'd heard about death and the dying usually involved some sort of light. Trust him to be the one to end up in the only tunnel with a broken lightbulb at the end of it â€“ if there was even an end to this place. Trip heaved a sigh, reaching out blindly with one hand. _Guess it's time t'find out what's on the other side..._

He was about to take his first step forward when he froze, a slight frown materialising upon his forehead. Something was wrong. _No_ , he amended silently, looking around with growing curiosity. _Not wrong... Just... different..._

Then it registered.

The general darkness around him was shifting â€“ starting to lose its density â€“ becoming less of a solitary colour and more of a mixture of several. He could actually see. 

Blinking in astonishment, Trip searched his surroundings for the reason for the change, his grief momentarily forgotten. Holding up a hand to shade his eyes, he squinted into the brightening glare, eyebrows rising at the sight that greeted him. _What...? How...?_

And walking towards him, surrounded by a dim curious glow, were two men, one of which he'd recognised. Once again, he marvelled at the species. Their unusual facial appearance and extraordinary mental abilities made them a truly remarkable group of people. Strangely drawn to the two, Trip remained still, watching with wide-eyed wonder as they came nearer towards him, their brilliant emerald green eyes glowing brightly in the fast diminishing gloom.

"Hello, Commander Tucker," the older one smiled as they halted across him. "My name is Koerin. I believe you know my protÃ©gÃ©, Taelek."

"Good wishes, Commander Tucker," Taelek greeted with a bow. "It is good to see you again."

"Hello. It's nice t'see ya again, too, Taelek. Are youâ€“err...?" Words failed him at this point and he just stared bemusedly at them, eyes flickering from one man to the other. 

He could understand how he might have included Taelek into this dream... this hallucination, of his, seeing that he'd met the man, but Koerin? Even for an active imagination such as his, the older J'rall seemed so real, too real to be made up. Besides, if he'd had to die with someone in his mind, he'd rather have Jonathan Archer over green-eyed aliens any time.

"Real?" At Trip's slow nod, Koerin said easily, "Yes, Commander, I assure you, we are very real."

"Both of you?"

"Both of us."

The slight furrow between Trip's brows deepened. "But how...? How'd you get here?"

Koerin waved a hand at their surroundings. "Where do you think we are, young Tucker?"

Following the gesture, Trip did so, and was suddenly cognizant of the disquieting fact that, except for a swirl of faint colours, there wasn't anything around them. There was neither sky... nor ground. They were literally standing on nothing. 

He'd been so sure that everything was just in his mind, but with the appearance of the two men, doubts were now starting to set in. What if he had been wrong and whatever he was in was something a lot worse than death?

"I... I... don't know," he said weakly. There was a faint trace of panic in his voice as he asked, looking wide eyed at his strange surroundings. Though made of nothing, it seemed to be closing in on them, on him. "Where are we? Am I a prisoner then?"

"No, you are not. Calm down, Commander," Koerin soothed in a low voice. "Breathe..."

Fighting off a wave of dizziness, Trip instinctively obeyed the gentle command. As his hammering heart gradually slowed, he gazed up in awkward confusion at the older man. Swallowing, he asked again, "Where are we?"

"Somewhere safe."

"Are you sure?" Trip asked, darting a glance at their surroundings. "It doesn't look like any place I know."

"Looks can be very deceiving."

"Yeah, so I've heard," Trip mumbled, eyes downcast. Abruptly, his head jerked up. "I'm dead, or at least, dying..." He swallowed hard. "Right...?"

Koerin studied him for a moment, taking in the haunted eyes and resigned air. "That depends, young Tucker..."

"That depends?" the engineer repeated, his incredulity evident in his voice. "On what?"

"On whether you prefer death over life."


	14. Ceremony

It was almost pitch dark inside; the only light that could be seen came from the many candles burning at the four corners of the sizeable room. His eyes adjusting quickly to the dim lighting, Phlox drew nearer once more to the unconscious man, frowning when his sharp gaze took in the unhealthy grey pallor and exhausted visage. The young officer was still in the grip of a very high fever, and each wheezing breath that he desperately fought for worried Phlox greatly.

Turning his head, Phlox studied the two silent, unmoving J'ralls who were in the room with them. Each sat cross-legged with backs ramrod straight, the tips of their long, graceful fingers lightly touching Tucker's temple. Eyes closed, they appeared to be in a deep sleep, but there was a faint smile on each of their faces. Before Koerin had entered into his current meditative state, he'd place beside him a long hypodermic-like device, and for a brief moment, Phlox had stared at it in morbid fascination as he'd tried to reconcile the words with the images in his mind.

While they quickly covered the remaining distance between the clearing and the castle, Koerin had given them a rough idea of the ritual that was about to be performed on their ailing crewmate. Of all of them, T'Pol appeared to be the only one who'd fully understood what Koerin was trying his best to convey to them without being truly alarmed by it. He knew that her insight and acceptance had something to do with Vulcans being able to perform mind melds themselves, this ritual being somewhat vaguely of the same sort.

As Tucker's doctor, he'd protested for another matter altogether, his main concern stemming from the fact that the engineer, who was fading fast, wouldn't be strong enough to survive such a strenuous procedure. It took some convincing from the aged scholar, but eventually the Captain had reluctantly agreed to allow the ritual to be carried out, on the condition that their ship's doctor be allowed to monitor Tucker's condition closely throughout the ceremony.

Now, aside from the guard standing motionless in front of the door, he was the only other conscious person in the room. He didn't try to engage the stoic J'rall in conversation, mindful of the silence that was needed for this delicate procedure. Checking the readings on his medical tricorder, the Denobulan shook his head before leaning back on his haunches, his heart heavy with the knowledge it carried. If his health continued to deteriorate at this current rate, the comatose officer would likely be dead within the next couple of hours.

* * *

"What...?" Dumbfounded by Koerin's answer, his jaw worked furiously but nothing else came out. Glowering at the older J'rall, Trip jerked away from the subtle touch of a reassuring hand upon his shoulder as he finally found his voice. "What kind o' question is that?! 'Course I wanna live!"

Koerin hid a smile, clasping his hands together in front of him. That was exactly what he wanted from Tucker, a show of the spirit that he'd sense in the young human the moment he'd set eyes on him. If he were to make it through the ceremony, that special spark of his needed to be brought out into play.

"So?" The voice was tight with anxiety and impatience.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Don't play dumb with me," Trip countered through gritted teeth. "We've already covered your 'life or death' question. So, what now? When can I get out of here?"

"When the time is right."

Trip stared blankly at Koerin for a moment, digesting that answer, and then crossed his arms in front of his chest with a scowl. _Dammit, what's going on here?_

They were having a conversation but evidently, he was no nearer to an answer now than when he'd first arrived in this strange place. As far as he could tell, he was... somewhere, stuck with two people he hardly knew, and one of them seemed to be quite content channelling Yoda. 

_It must be the robes_ , Trip thought sourly, _the more mysterious the clothing, the more cryptic the speech_. He shot the speaker a dark look. "Could we be a lil' more specific here? I don't know if you've noticed, but that didn't help much."

Raising an eyebrow at the sight of the grouchy face before him, Koerin said equably, his deep baritone strangely comforting to the bewildered officer, "Of course, Commander. But may I inquire several things first?"

"Sure," Trip answered, his arms flopping down to his sides in resigned submission. His hard stare had produced no visible reaction from Koerin other than a fascinated smile in return. Nothing appeared to rattle the old guy, who seemed to be following some obscure agenda of his own. And somehow, he had a strange feeling that he didn't have much of a choice in this matter but to go along with it. 

_All right, fine._ He'll do it... for now. With some luck, this bizarre twenty questions session might even lead him somewhere â€“ hopefully back to _Enterprise_ and his friends. "What d'you wanna know?"

"Why is it that you choose life?"

Almost choking on his astonishment, Trip's scowl reappeared and then deepened, keeping pace with his mounting irritation. What kind of question was that? Suddenly, doubt reared its ugly head, adding a touch of fear to the mix and Trip eyed the robed men warily, wondering if they were toying with him, or worse, with his mind. After all, he knew next to nothing about these people other than that they possessed remarkable cerebral capabilities.

As if sensing his uncertainties, Koerin spoke up once more, quickly commanding the engineer's attention away from his reservations before any of them could take root. "Commander?"

"Huh?" Trip puffed out an exasperated breath and gave up trying to rationalise the question any further. His chin jutted out mulishly as he confronted the questioning interest in the green depths. 

"Why...? Let's see now, perhaps it's because I have responsibilities to get back to â€“ my engines need me, the plasma relays need purging, and the impulse reactor..." he trailed off briefly before continuing, his voice strengthening, "...or more importantly, perhaps that there are people who are counting on me to be there for them â€“ my family and friends... some of whom I'm sure are wonderin' where I am right nowâ€“"

"Ahh... family and friends. Irreplaceable treasures. But are you so sure about these people whom you call your friends, young Tucker? Look around you. Do you see them anywhere? Perhaps they have already abandoned you..."

"What? No..." Appalled, Trip denied the words without even thinking, staggering back a step, flinching as if he'd been dealt a physical blow. He stared aghast at the old man, eyes wide and startled.

"But I do not see anyone here..."

"Noâ€¦" the engineer whispered hoarsely, half to himself, and shook his head slowly. "They'd never..."

"Are you certain?" Koerin pressed.

"Yes! They'd never leave without me!" Trip shouted angrily, reining in his rising alarm. With growing desperation, and still reeling from the possibility that there might be a sliver of truth in Koerin's blunt statement, the Starfleet officer fought the horrible sinking feeling that had pooled at the pit of his stomach. He might have just given them the answer that they wanted to hear, what he wanted to hear, but did he actually believe it himself?

He looked urgently around, but saw nothing but gentle swirling colours. As a matter of fact, the three of them looked to be last three people alive here, wherever here was. There wasn't a single sign of any other lifeforms, even worse, of the Warp 5 starship or any of her crew. For the first time since he found himself in this situation, Trip began to question everything he thought he knew or believed.

Was it possible that _Enterprise_ had left him behind? He couldn't, wouldn't, accept that to be the truth. The miserable man squeezed his eyes shut, hands covering his face, feeling his heart pounding away as if he'd just broken the world record for the 100-metre race. Was Koerin right? Would his crewmates, his friends, leave without him? Would _Jonathan Archer_?

The moment his best friend's name burst into mind, Trip knew he had his answer. The pressure that had been pressing onto his heart promptly lifted, taking along with it the cold hollowness that had filled his entire being. Wrestling the last of his doubts to the ground, he finally looked up, eyes bright.

"I'm sure," Trip said and this time, the conviction rang strong and unmistakable in his voice. "I know the Cap'n. He'd never leave me behind, not if he could help it. Never," he reiterated firmly, clear blue eyes unwavering as he met his interrogator's sharp gaze.

* * *

The earliest changes in Tucker's condition were so slight that he would've missed it altogether had the medical tricorder not picked them up when it did. Alerted by the new data, Phlox peered closer, studying the face relaxed in oblivion â€“ a face that looked far too young suddenly â€“ the deep lines of pain and exhaustion not completely smoothed away even by the deep state of unconsciousness he was in.

The Commander was still in a coma, and while his temperature was still highly elevated, his other symptoms appeared to be fading away. Looking at the time, he realised that the two men hadn't moved once since they initiated the procedure almost two hours ago. 

The J'ralls were certainly a remarkable, albeit mysterious, species, from their astounding physiology to their extraordinary customs. It was a pity they were such a private race. He'd have loved to find out more about them. Stretching to loosen his tense muscles, Phlox took a slow walk around the room before returning to Tucker's side. After running another quick scan, the Denobulan then settled down to wait quietly in the shadowy room once more.

Even now, he was still more than a little dubious about whatever Koerin and Taelek were doing. However, as long as it meant a continual improvement of Tucker's health, Phlox knew that he would keep to his word and remain the passive observer in this ceremony. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't do something should anything were to go wrong, the Commander's well-being being his main priority in all of this. He might not interfere in the ceremony itself, but there would be other ways to get the necessary help.

Although, doing that might be easier said than done, he reflected, eyeing the huge guard, who was watching his every move with an unblinking stare. Easier said than done, but not entirely impossible. Turning his attentions back to his patient, Phlox hope that things would not come to that. After all, he was the physician here.

* * *

Koerin studied the human who stood before them, who suddenly looked very young and strangely vulnerable, despite the confidence that was radiating from him. Extremely pleased for the spark he'd been looking for revealed in the engineer's brilliant blue eyes, the old J'rall allowed a smile to light up his face, chuckling as his obvious pleasure only drew an even more suspicious glare from the exasperated officer.

"What...?" Trip demanded warily as he watched Koerin, a smile still on his face, exchange a quick look with Taelek. "Why are the both of you smilin' like that?"

"Because you are ready."

That cryptic answer only served to draw the dark blond brows together in another dark scowl.

"Ready? Ready for what?" Trip asked with an impatient growl. His eyes were a stormy blue as he glared at the man. "Will you quit with t'strange Yoda talk 'ready?"

"Yoda talk?" Two heads tilted almost simultaneously to one side to regard the engineer curiously. "What is this Yoda talk you speak of?" Koerin gave voice to the question, looking visibly amused and intrigued at the same time.

"Yeah... uh... Never mind." Trip cleared his throat and quickly pushed forward, ignoring the slight hint of red colouring his cheeks. "What... what I mean is that you haven't given me a straight answer once this whole time."

"Ahh, on the contrary, Commander, everything I have said to you has been nothing but."

"See?" Trip gestured with a helpless wave of his hand towards Koerin, frustrated beyond words. "That's exactly what I was talkin' 'bout..."

Another smile creased the old J'rall's face as Tucker trailed off into a mumble, liberally sprinkling the rest of his sentences with the more colourful words of his vocabulary. He was fast becoming fond of the young engineer, odd speech and all. These humans were indeed a really interesting species.

"Where do you think we are, Commander?" he asked quietly, interrupting the irritable officer in mid-swear.

Resisting the urge to walk up to the older man and shake him until he made some sense, Tucker dropped his head into his hand and mumbled through his fingers, "Are we back to that 'gain? I thought we went through this set o' questions 'ready. Could we move on to the next set..., please?"

Ignoring the sarcastic reply, Koerin said with his usual calm, "You did not give me an answer."

"I didn't?" Forcing his jaw to unclench at Koerin's slow nod, Trip took a deep breath, trying to remember what they'd talked about. "I... uh... I don't really know. You said we were somewhere safe. I thought..."

"Yes?" Koerin encouraged when the officer's voice trailed away.

"...well, that maybe I'm jus' imaginin' all this... That it was all just in my mind somehow..."

"And what if I told you that you were right about us being in your mind?"

"I..." His Adam's apple bobbing, Trip stared at his conversation partner, at a loss for words. It was a while before he managed to ask in a noticeably shaky voice, "I-I amâ€¦? I mean, really? We... are?"

"Yes."

Biting his bottom lip, Trip ducked his head, looking at his boots without really seeing them, mulling over Koerin's answer. He swallowed with some difficulty, somewhat unnerved by the whole situation, and wondered if this was what they meant by losing one's mind. 

It certainly felt like it, and he wouldn't be surprised if he woke up to find himself strapped down on a bed in a mental institution somewhere while doctors pumped him full of drugs to keep the hallucinations away. He shook away that disturbing image just as Koerin spoke up once more.

"Just look around. Do you not comprehend the great opportunity that you currently have before you?"

That got a stronger reaction from the engineer. "What opportunity? T'be lost somewhere inside m'own mind? I've gone crazy, haven't I? This is all some damn hallucination..."

A quiet laugh escaped Koerin as he looked genially at the irate young man. "No, Commander, this is no hallucination. I assure you that your mental state is still very much whole and completely intact."

Trip looked unconvinced. Shifting slightly, he crossed his arms over his chest again, glaring long and hard through guarded eyes at the other man.

"Is the incredible so impossible to be grasped? There are many wonders that the mind is able to achieve. Can this not be one of them?" the old scholar asked, smiling at the silent man. "You see, what you have before you is the chance to explore one's psyche and to see how special it really is."

With a grimace, Trip lifted one hand and raked long fingers through his hair, causing the strands to stand up in six different directions. "Look, I 'preciate whatever you're tryin' to do here butâ€“"

"I can show you if you like..." Koerin interjected gently.

After a moment's hesitation, the engineer nodded, eyeballing his surroundings doubtfully. When nothing happened after his third sweep of the place, he looked at his companion with poorly concealed impatience and demanded, "Well?"

Koerin lifted a snow-white brow. "Whenever you are ready, Commander."

"What?" Trip gaped, stunned. " **I'm** supposed to do something?"

"Well, it is your mind, is it not?" Koerin smiled. "Tell me, what is one of your favourite places in your world?"

Trip thought a moment and then shrugged. "Had some good times at Tarpon Springs in Florida where I grew up."

"All right, now, close your eyes... Trust me, Commander," Koerin said when a slit of blue promptly appeared to level a suspicious glare at him. He waited until both eyes were fully closed before continuing, "I want you to concentrate on that place... See it. Feel it. Taste the air there..."

Taelek looked on in wide-eyed wonder as their colours around them started to swirl wildly. Soon, they began to take on distinct shapes, forming a strange, grainy landscape half covered by a body of water, with various types of flora scattered around the area. The homeworld of the humans was truly a beautiful place, if this was anything to go by. He could certainly understand why the Commander loved it so much.

"Now, take a look."

Cautiously, Trip did so and his eyes widened in astonishment. He was back on Earth, back in Tarpon Springs. On Sunset Beach. He whirled around, trying to see everything at once. Turning back to Koerin, he blurted, "This is amazin'... But... but how?"

"Simple. This is just one of your many memories."

"You mean I can change this place to anything, anywhere, I like?"

"Yes."

"This is great..." Jamming his hands into his pockets, Trip took another glance around, soaking in the scenery that was set out before him. 

He lifted his face upwards, closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. Damn, that felt good. He could feel the sun on his skin, the wind in his hair and even taste the sweet moisture on his lips. _But..._

His face fell as the thought completed itself and his fingers curled tightly into fists. Looking down, and almost as if he was afraid of the inevitable answer he was about to receive, he remarked softly, "But this isn't real..." He met Koerin's steadfast gaze. "Is it?"

"No, Commander, but we can help you to return to the one that is."

"You can, huh?" Trip said sceptically, eyes narrowing. Watching as their surroundings gradually returned to its original state, he waited until there was nothing but bright swirling colours before asking, "And how can I be sure that's the truth? For all I know, you could be here to make sure I never wake up or somethin'."

"Oh, I do not think Captain Archer would approve of that very much," the J'rall chuckled in reply. "He is expecting you to come out of this alive and well. You were right, he would never have left you behind."

Brightening at the mention of Archer's name, Trip looked expectantly around. "The Cap'n? He's here? Where is he?"

"He is waiting, on the outside, along with the rest of your friends."

"Outside?" The open pleasure on Trip's face vanished as abruptly as it had appeared and he gave an almost inaudible sigh. "Oh..."

Koerin appraised the dejected slump of the other man's shoulders and the anguish in his blue eyes awhile. "Take heart, young Tucker." His tone was kind. "Put your trust in us and you will see your friends again very soon."

Still deeply suspicious yet oddly filled with a sudden sense of hope; Trip's startled gaze met the J'rall's for a fraction of a second before skittering away. He sighed, conscious of the part of him that desperately wanted to believe the promise that was being offered. 

If there was even the slightest chance that the two of them could help him... Not that he'd anything else to lose. Also, the cost of not giving whatever they had in mind a try â€“ of not being able to see his friends or family again â€“ was not something he was willing to risk. Those reasons aside, he thought deprecatingly, it didn't appear as if he really had much of a choice at the moment. 

Looking up, he swallowed hard before saying quietly, "All right. Tell me what I have to do..."


	15. Agony

His eyes widened as he caught sight of Trip standing there all by himself, looking bewildered and disturbingly forlorn in the huge room. The young officer's expressive red-rimmed blue eyes were wide and terrified, and his trembling hands were stretched out towards him in an obvious desperate, but silent, appeal for help. Archer tried to move towards his best friend but found himself suddenly helpless, unable to budge or even utter a sound.

"Cap'n?"

That single whispered plea sent a knife through his heart. Trip sounded, all at the same time, extremely young, confused and hurt, so unlike the confident engineer that he knew for almost a decade. 

Archer tried again to go towards his friend but realised that something... no, someone, was holding him back. He twisted his body, meeting the sympathetic gazes of Malcolm, Hoshi and Travis. T'Pol stood nearby, a flicker of â€¦ something â€“ something he couldn't make out â€“ in her cool, brown eyes. His stomach clenched and he turned cold all over.

"No... Wait... Let me go." He gave each of them a hard glare when they didn't immediately comply. "That's an order, Lieutenant!" Archer commanded tersely, aiming his ire at the most senior of his officers who was holding him back. 

Exchanging a quick look, Malcolm and Travis loosened their grip but did not totally release their hold on their commanding officer. With a jerk, Archer quickly shrugged off the hands from his person and took a step forward, his attention already returning to the figure in the middle of the room. "Trip..."

"W-We're so v-very s-sorry, C-C-Captain..." Hoshi's broken whisper stopped him in mid-step and he turned to where she was standing, his breath catching in his throat. There were tears flowing freely down her face. 

His eyes flew towards where Malcolm and Travis were standing and he reeled inwardly from the obvious grief present on their ashen faces. They had tears in their eyes as well and that frightened him even more. And T'Pol... 

_No, it wasn't possible_ , he thought â€“ vaguely conscious of the hysterical tinge that coloured his inner voice â€“ Vulcans **do not** show any emotion. But T'Pol... 

Wordlessly, he gaped at the expression on his Science Officer's face. She looked... grief-stricken â€“ devastated even...

But that could only mean...

" **No!** " he yelled, quick to deny what his senior officers were obviously trying to convey to him. It couldn't just end this wayâ€¦Turning back to the lonely, solitary figure â€“ he'd tried moving forward towards him but found that he couldn't â€“ there seemed to be an invisible wall between them â€“ and all he could do was to watch with helpless rage as Koerin appeared out of nowhere and led an unresisting Tucker away.

The engineer paused at the door, meeting his frantic eyes, and for a brief moment, Archer nursed the hope that his friend would just turn around and walk back to them. But after sending another silent plea, Trip looked away and passed through the door without a backward glance.

" **Trip!** "

Koerin paused beside the door and bowed slightly. "I am truly sorry, Captain Archer."

"No, wait! What do you mean? Where are you taking him?" Archer asked uneasily, his heart sinking at the look on the other man's face. He pounded hard at the barrier, barely conscious of the pain caused by the motion. "Answer me, dammit!"

"He is dead, Captain."

"You're lying! No, he isn't dead! I... I just saw him... He just went through that door. Where are you taking him to?!" Archer's voice ended in a near shout as he glared at the aged J'rall.

"He is dead..." The statement was repeated monotonously. "And cannot be returned to you. You have failed him. You have failed the others. You have failed yourself..."

" **No!** "

"Goodbye, Captain..." Koerin's voice seemed to be fading, along with his body. Archer frowned, trying to keep the man in sight. The old scholar was the only link he had left to Trip, and he was not going to let the man just disappear without a single clue to where they just took his Chief Engineer.

"Wait! Remove this barrier and I'll show youâ€“"

"He is dead..."

" _Captain..._ "

He frowned at the appearance of a new but strangely familiar voice but ignored it, concentrating instead on the J'rall. _Where did that man go?_

"Koerin, wait!"

"He is dead..." the fading voice floated towards him, the words faintly taunting. "He is dead to you..."

" _Sir!_ "

" **Stop** saying that! Trip is not dead!"

" _Captain Archer!_ "

"He is dead..."

" **NO!** Trip...!"

" _Captain Archer...! Sir, **wake up!**_ "

Jerking awake, Archer sat up and stared blankly into the concerned face of his Armoury Officer. Malcolm's face was paler than usual, and he was swallowing convulsively. 

The older man looked away, his green eyes skirting the small room, remembering suddenly where he was. Where they both were. Dropping his head into his hand, he took a deep breath to calm his hammering heart. 

The dream... it'd felt so real. He let out a sigh, conscious that the younger officer's anxious eyes were still firmly fixed on his covered face but didn't look up. Not yet. He wasn't ready to deal with the questioning gaze just yet.

* * *

_Trust_.

Lost in contemplation, with that simple word and its unmistakable message echoing in his mind, Trip didn't notice that Taelek had moved until the young J'rall was almost beside him. Startled, he took a step backwards, watching warily as the other man drew even nearer to him.

"Hey! Watch t'personal space, will ya?" he muttered, batting away the hands that were reaching out towards his head. "Nothin' personal, I think you're a nice guy and all, but I'd rather you keep your distance for now, al'right?"

Confused by the rush of words from the human and unsure of what to do next, Taelek lowered his arms and looked towards his mentor, who hurried to reassure the agitated engineer. "You need to trust us, Commander. Remember?"

_Trust us_.

His whole body tense, Trip gawked at the older man for a long time, silently wrestling with the uncertainty that ate at him. He might have agreed to accept their help but that by itself didn't make anything less confusing or easier. And he was so damn tired. All he wanted to do right now was to lie down somewhere and go to sleep. But not yet, not until he'd finished this, once and for all. But to what outcome? The question taunted him. Right now, he knew that it could be anything, anything at all.

_You need to trust us_.

Clinging to the hope that he wasn't making a huge mistake, Trip broke eye contact and looked away. With a barely audible sigh, he then bobbed his head slightly, indicating his agreement.

At Koerin's silent signal to proceed, Taelek moved closer and raised his hands once more, placing his fingers on Trip's temples. Wide blue eyes looked nervously back at him and he flashed the man a reassuring smile.

"Now, Commander," Taelek said gently, seeking to elevate Tucker's obvious alarm. Although he was holding himself very still, Taelek could tell that the engineer was ready to bolt at the slightest of excuses. "Try and relax. It may sting a little but it will soon be over."

_Sting a little_? Trip didn't know whether to laugh or cry at that claim. If he had any energy left, he would have argued with the young J'rall concerning his poor choice of words. If **this** was his version of 'a little', he'd rather not find out the other end of the scale. His eyes darted wildly, looking for Koerin, and he began to panic when he failed to see the old scholar anywhere.

Then all thoughts came to a halt when the white-hot pain that had engulfed him increased to the point that it was all he could do to stay conscious. It was nothing like he'd ever felt before, it was as if his whole being was currently being torn into two. 

In an alarming speed that drained all the fight from him, colours seeped from his world, leaving him in enveloping gloom. He tried to move away, to break the contact between them, but found himself unable to do so. _No, please... stop! NO...!_

Through the red haze of indescribable pain and terror, Trip Tucker screamed.

* * *

Malcolm thought his racing heart was never going to regain its normal tempo. When the hoarse cry first broke the stilled night air, he'd almost fallen off his bunk in his blind haste to get to the other man's side. It was the single, most heartbreaking sound he'd ever heard a man make. His gaze never leaving the man who was now sitting up at the side of the short bunk with his face hidden behind his hands, Malcolm leaned back against the wall, wondering if this short respite was such a good idea after all.

After the first four hours of waiting outside the Healing Chamber, they were finally persuaded by the J'ralls to try and get some rest, seeing that the ceremony was going to be a long one. Although he'd been up for more than 40 hours straight, Archer initially resisted the idea, preferring instead to remain outside, just in case there was a change in Trip's condition. It didn't stop Archer from ordering his officers to rest however, much to Malcolm's exasperation, who felt that it should be his duty to remain outside the door, not the Captain's.

It took some persuading from both sides, but Archer finally consented, but only after he'd made sure that there will always be someone from Enterprise outside the chamber door at all times. Joining Archer as his captain took first watch, Malcolm knew that Archer's capitulation was also due to the fact that the rooms that they were given were right across the Healing Chamber, allowing easy access should anything were to happen.

Right now, they were the only two in the room; Tanner and Anderson being on watch, having replaced Archer and himself less than an hour ago. Travis, unable to rest, had decided to join the two men outside. After pacing around the room, the Captain finally fell into a restless doze just half an hour ago, much to Malcolm's relief. He didn't like how Archer had looked â€“ it was clear that the tired lines on his face were due to more than just the physical strain.

He had a bad moment when his first few attempts to wake the sleeping man after that first scream were unsuccessful. Archer seemed so deeply lost in the grip of his nightmare that Malcolm wondered for an awful moment if it was even possible to wake him up. Finally resorting to shaking Archer awake, the Lieutenant savoured the sheer relief that had washed over him when bewildered green eyes slowly opened and met his before disappearing behind two trembling hands.

His silent contemplation was interrupted when the door swung opened and the three men looked in, their wide eyes and pale faces mirroring the worry Malcolm knew was clearly etched on his own face. He was wondering what to say to them when a hoarse croak broke the stunned silence.

"I'm all right." Archer lifted his head and nodded at the men hovering near the doorway, "Just a bad dream..."

Still looking slightly uncertain, Travis and his fellow crewmen obeyed the unsaid order and left, closing the door behind them.

Malcolm frowned at the harsh pallor that currently graced Archer's features as he looked vacantly at the door, obviously lost in thought. Not for the first time since he'd woken the man up from his nightmare, Malcolm wished that Trip were here instead of him, knowing that the gregarious engineer would instinctively know what to do when faced with a situation such as this. 

With some hesitation, the dark-haired officer called out tentatively, "Captain?"

Archer's gaze flew to him and Malcolm could tell that the other man had forgotten that he was even there, watching as realisation slowly replaced the startled look. With a sigh, the older man ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.

"I'm okay, Malcolm," he said, answering the silent question, surprising himself by the raspy quality of his voice. He cleared his throat and then continued, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, Sir."

"Any news so far?"

"No, I'm afraid not, Captain."

Swallowing a curse at the unwelcome answer, Archer stood up, straightening his uniform as he did. It was obvious he wasn't going to get any more rest tonight. He'd just opened the door when a scream of raw, unadulterated pain emerged from opposite room.

* * *

Taken aback by the unexpected spike in the Commander's brain activity, Phlox leaned closer to the still body and ran another quick scan, hoping to ascertain the cause of it. He took a quick glance at the men who were seated, still as statues, beside Tucker' s head. They showed no reaction whatsoever to the evident change that just took place and Phlox wondered once again what they were doing within the young man's mind.

He'd just turned away to reach for his PADD when the engineer stirred, a low moan escaping him. Encouraged by what he perceived to be a sign that Tucker will soon be coming out from his deep coma, Phlox was unprepared when the violent thrashing started, the suddenness of it all taking him completely by surprised. Quickly dropping the medical tricorder and the PADD, he was just reaching forward to hold the bucking body down when a hand clamped down upon his arm, startling him even further.

Looking up, Phlox met bright emerald eyes and immediately settled down, reassured by the calming effect of the almost hypnotic gaze. He quickly widened the space between them until the hand dropped from his arm.

"You must give Taelek more time."

Following Koerin's gaze, Phlox realised with a start that the younger J'rall's graceful fingers were still lightly touching Tucker's head, indifferent to the violent movements of the body beneath his touch. With a sigh, he asked worriedly, "What is he doing?"

"Saving Commander Tucker's life."

Unconvinced, the still sceptical physician was about to question Koerin about the statement that seemed to be the exact opposite of what he was witnessing when Tucker's body suddenly arched, so tautly that he looked like he was going to snap into two at any second. Alarmed, Phlox started forward again but halted when the most horrifying cry he'd ever heard in his life emerged from the open mouth of his patient â€“ a man who was in a grip of a pain so terrible that it'd successfully penetrated the state of deep unconsciousness he was currently lost in.

* * *

For one brief infinite second, it seemed as though all those within hearing distance had been frozen into place, a look of absolute shock on their faces. Then, a faint, strangled voice broke the stunned silence.

"Trip..." Archer breathed, recognising the agonised cry. He barely registered the presence of the others â€“ Malcolm just right beside him, Hoshi and T'Pol appearing from the adjacent room, Travis, Tanner and Michaels somewhere to his left â€“ as he made directly for the chamber door, his long legs making short work of the distance between both rooms â€“ only to stop short when the two guards who, until now, had stood silent and unmoving on each side of the thick door, moved in front of it, blocking his way.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way!" Jonathan Archer gritted through clenched teeth, his voice dangerously soft â€“ each word carefully and explicitly enunciated. He flinched involuntarily when another tortured scream filled the cold night air. _Hang on, Trip, we're coming..._

Quickly swallowing his surprise at the glimpse of the deadly rage that glittered in Archer's eyes, Malcolm immediately moved closer, his own body tense and ready.

"You heard the Captain," he bit out tersely, his voice low and lethal. " **Move!** "

"Please, Captain Archer, Lieutenant Reed, everyone," one of the J'ralls stated calmly, lifting one hand in a placating gesture. His eyes flickered to the younger of the two men before returning to Archer, meeting the incensed gaze almost placidly. "You must allow the Cleansing Ceremony to proceed without interruption."

"Are you deaf?!" Archer snarled, his plain disbelief mirrored in equal strength on the faces of his crew currently flanking him. "That's no ceremony...! It sounds like Trip's being tortured in there!"

Looking unperturbed by angry, tense and determined group of humans before him, the huge man answered with quiet reassurance, "Your crewman will not be harmed."

"You can't be serious? **That's** the sound of someone in pain! And in case you missed it all, that someone happens to be one of **my** crew!"

Archer's sharp, sarcastic retort did little to ruffle the inherent calm of the J'rall presently in the irate Starfleet Captain's line of fire. Instead, Wiltr met each hot, angry gaze of the people in front of him with an almost dispassionate manner before finally settling on the only one that wasn't burning with emotion.

She had stood almost motionless throughout the whole confrontation, watching from the middle of the hostile group â€“ ramrod straight but with delicate features unmarred by any expression whatsoever â€“ a single pillar of serenity among the dark storm that was brewing around him. And although she offered no visible indication of it on her person at the moment, he sensed that she cared for the man inside the room, perhaps even more deeply than she was aware of or was willing to admit to.

However, whatever her feelings were towards the young Commander, this was neither the time nor his place to examine it any further, as fascinated as he was about the whole situation. Right now, the only thing he needed from the Vulcan was her help in getting through to the group before him, before any of them did something that all might come to regret later.

His bright green eyes catching and holding T'Pol's cool gaze, Wiltr offered a single, earnest plea, "I know it must be hard to trust us after what happened but please, you need to have some faith in Master Koerin." 

His eyes shifted to the commanding officer of the group. "Along with Taelek, he will do his best to help the Commander."

Staring wordlessly at the man, Archer was in caught in the agony of uncertainty, one part of him wishing he could just believe while the other, the part of him who wanted nothing more than to just be beside Trip, to help him get through whatever he was currently undergoing, was wary of empty words that promised much but delivered nothing. He could tell by their rigid stance that his crew, arrayed behind him, was just waiting for the signal to proceed forward. They were all ready to go to the aid of a fellow crewman, a good friend, even if they had to literally go through the two guards who were blocking the only way in to do so.

Sensing rather that seeing T'Pol move nearer to his side, Archer's gaze never left Wiltr's even when she spoke up from beside him.

"Captain, perhaps it would be prudent to listen to Wiltr â€“ for the moment. Doctor Phlox **is** with Commander Tucker..." T'Pol left the sentence hanging, confident that he would be able to reach its inevitable conclusion on his own. It may not have shown on her face or in the calm resonance of her voice, but the cries of pain had sent a chill down her spine. And although she knew it was an illogical notion, she could not help but to feel responsible for the Commander's pain. The survey, after all, had been her idea. I will need to replenish my supply of candles soon, she thought absently as she waited, along with the rest, for Archer's answer.

_Phlox..._ Archer's eyes widened and he glanced down, startled, at his Science Officer. He'd been so caught up with his concern for Trip that he'd forgotten that the Denobulan was also within the closed chamber. Taking a ragged breath, he nodded grudgingly and took a step back, taking some comfort in the thought that Phlox would do everything within his power to make sure that nothing would happen to the young engineer.

"Fine, we'll wait," he relented, forcing the words out with some reluctance. His green eyes hardened as he turned warningly back to Wiltr. "But if anything should happen to Trip, or Phlox..."

"Doctor Phlox and the Commander will be all right," the J'rall intoned, much to Archer's mounting frustration. That vague reassurance was beginning to grate on his nerves, especially when they have yet to see any physical proof. Turning away, he headed for the opposite bench and sat down, his gaze unwavering as he stared at the chamber door. He resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands, but fisted them tightly in front of him to hide the slight tremor in them.

Taking their cue from their commanding officer, the others did the same, quickly fanning out along the narrow corridor, and all thoughts of rest forgotten as they kept silent vigil. There was one consoling thought that each of them nursed deep within â€“ at least the horrifying screams had finally stopped.


	16. Healing

_What theâ€¦? Whereâ€¦? Howâ€¦?_ Trip looked around, feeling utterly disorientated, while he tried frantically to keep up with the multitude of questions that had suddenly appeared, one after another, into his mind. They came so quickly that it seemed that each was hardly formed before another took its place. Tempering his rising panic, he willed himself to calm down. _I've gotta stop waking up like this..._

Settling down sufficiently to study his surroundings with a careful eye, he realised that at least the 'where' part of his questions was relatively easy â€“ it appeared that he was back where he started not so very long ago before the J'ralls found him. 

The only difference was, instead of heavy gloom, vibrant colours once more surrounded him â€“ a million different shades that were somehow even brighter, and more vivid than before, shimmered and shone, all around him. With some effort, he struggled to get his scattered thoughts under control. _What happened? Wasn't I just withâ€“?_

"Commander Tucker..."

He jumped slightly at the soft call, heart hammering, and whirled around to find the two people he'd been mulling over standing behind him, their hands clasped loosely in front of them. His eyes lit up.

"Taelek... Koerin..." Trip whispered, his breath coming out in a rush, feeling a little lightheaded with the extreme relief that had coursed through him at the sight of them. There was that brief period when he'd wondered if all they had been were just figments of his imagination. 

_Malcolm did always comment about it being too overactive_ , he winced, glancing away and staring down at the strangely coloured ground in front of him, momentarily lost in the memory. _Wonder what he'd say if he was here right now..._

"How do you feel?"

"I'm fiâ€“" Trip stopped short of his automatic reply and looked up, scowling in mild irritation. "Have you been taking lessons from the Doc?"

At their confused expression, his flash of annoyance faded away, leaving him oddly drained. He sighed, averting his gaze once more. "Sorry. It's just that everything's a lil'... confusin' right now... I'm al'right..." he finished in a low voice, passing a shaking hand over his face.

Koerin's features softened even further as he looked at the lost soul before him, who was right now the very picture of bewilderment and abject misery. He didn't blame him â€“ it had been a difficult experience for the man before him. Though there was nothing he could do to make up for the pain that he'd just endured, perhaps he would be able to offer Tucker a little something to help lift his spirits.

Oblivious to the silent scrutiny, Trip was shifting through in his own thoughts when Koerin's voice startled him out of them.

"Yes, you are..."

Trip's brows furrowed as he stared hard at the older J'rall. Great. Not only was he right back where he began, it seemed the cryptic terms have started all over again too. He just hoped that this wasn't going to be a repeat of what just happened in its entirety; hazy though he might be about what exactly took place. All he could remember was the intense, overwhelming burst of what felt like neverending pain â€“ it seemed as it he was being torn into two â€“ and he wasn't sure if he could handle another round of whatever it was. 

Halfheartedly, he asked, "I am what?"

One white brow lifted quizzically. "You are fine, of course."

"Right..." the baffled man mumbled in reply, stretching the word into three long syllables. Trip shifted awkwardly, wondering where this conversation was going.

Koerin gave no sign that he was aware of the engineer's plight, saying instead, "I wish to thank you, Commander, for agreeing to the ceremony. I am aware that it was not at all a pleasant experience. Unfortunately, the pain of the ritual itself could not be avoided."

Trip thought for a moment, the slight frown creasing his brow slowly disappearing as images formed, filling the gaping holes in his memory. He finally gave an embarrassed shrug. "The ability wasn't really mine in the first place so..."

"Oh, I would not say that," Koerin interrupted benignly. "You, my youthful friend, appear have the potential within you, or else you would had succumbed to the complications a lot earlier. There is a possibility that with some training..."

Trip's eyes widened and he took an involuntary step backwards. Grimacing, he quickly shook his head. "Err... Thanks for the vote o'confidence, but I think I'll pass... No offense though."

"None taken," Koerin replied, chuckling at the horrified look that had flashed upon the young man's face, glad to see something else there besides the all-too familiar despair. He then proceeded to study the engineer carefully, who in turn, looked distinctly unnerved by the sudden attention.

Trip was fighting the urge to squirm under intense scrutiny of the bright green gaze when Koerin spoke up once more. "Your captain really cares for you."

A smile lit up the fine features at the old man's quiet comment, chasing away the shadows that lurked behind the blue eyes. 

"I know," Trip murmured. "He's a great friend and commanding officer. I'm proud to be part of his crew." He slid an apprehensive glance at Koerin. "I am still part of his crew, right?"

"Most certainly."

A wave of relief washed over the younger man at the two simple words and he returned Koerin's smile. "That's good t'know," he said softly, almost to himself.

"You are very highly regarded by your friends. I am beginning to understand why."

Astonished by the unexpected praise, Trip blinked, dismayed to feel heat infusing his cheeks. Not one totally comfortable with compliments, he ducked his head, hiding his high colour from two sets of emerald eyes alighted with amusement and warmth. Not really knowing what to say, Trip finally looked up with shy smile. "Thanks. They mean the world to me too."

* * *

The tired physician leaned back from the still, silent form on the padded mat, physically and mentally drained, but extremely pleased with the results of latest medical scan that he just took. Tucker's severely high fever was steadily receding while the remaining symptoms had all but disappeared.

It had been a long, bizarre night, and one that he'd be glad to see over. When the horrible screams had first started, he'd half expected the rest of the crew, led by the Captain, to burst into the room at any time. Apparently, so did the J'rall guard, for he'd silently moved in front of the door, his face alert as he listened to the muffled shouts coming from the other side of the thick door.

He'd been too concerned with whatever that was happening to his patient to be worried about Archer and the rest of the crew, knowing instinctively that they were all right. Perhaps more than a little furious, from the sound of things, but all right nonetheless. As for himself, the only thing that had kept him from rushing over to the young man's side and shaking him awake was Koerin's calm, whispered assurances along with a firm grip on his shoulder. Distracted by Tucker's distress, he'd scarcely felt the touch, and only realised it when the weight of the hand suddenly lifted a few moments later.

When Koerin was satisfied that Phlox wasn't about to do anything that would halt or jeopardise the ceremony in any way, he'd once more asked for the Denonulan's trust, that the ritual be allowed an uninterrupted completion. Contented with the short nod that he'd received, Koerin had returned to his seated position beside his young apprentice. 

Picking up the medical apparatus, the aged J'rall had then slid the long needle into Tucker's neck, drawing from the writhing man a small amount of clear liquid. Studying the prize in his hand briefly, Koerin had looked up and met Phlox's gaze.

"The final part of the ceremony is complete," he'd murmured.

Breaking eye contact, Phlox had focused instead on the now silent man, struck by how pale and still he was. If he didn't know better, he'd think the man looked worse than when the ceremony started. "And the Commander?"

A warm, fond smile creased the old J'rall face. "He will be fine. We now only need to show him the true route back."

With that cryptic statement, Koerin sent the troubled doctor a reassuring smile before placing his long fingers on Tucker and returning to his meditative state once more. Watching silently as Koerin proceeded to rejoin Taelek in Tucker's mind, Phlox could only hope that his decision to not interfere had been the right one to make.

For all their sakes.

* * *

"I was wonderin' 'bout somethin'," Trip slid a glance at the man beside him. The three of them were seated comfortably, somehow â€“ he'd stopped trying to explain the weirdness of what was happening to him long ago and had come to accept whatever he was seeing â€“ and oddly enough, having a pleasant conversation as if it was the most natural thing to do at the moment.

"Why I asked you all those questions when we first met?" The scholar smiled at the flabbergasted look on his young conversation partner's face, watching as Tucker struggled to control his astonishment.

Closing his mouth with a snap, and swallowing the question that had hovered at the tip of his tongue, the engineer shook his head, a chuckle escaping him. When will he ever learn? By now, he should know enough to stop being surprised by Koerin's ability to know exactly what he was thinking.

"Yes," he answered simply.

"Do you remember how you felt when during that time?" Koerin asked amiably. He waited until the fair head bobbed in reply before continuing, "You were ready to give up, to continue towards the other phase of a journey, a journey that was not your time to undertake as yet."

Trip ducked his head sheepishly, unable to deny the truth in the quietly spoken statement. "Yeah, well, I jus' wanted t'pain to stop."

"And I needed to remind you of what you had to live for. Whom you had to live for."

Trip nodded. "It worked."

"Indeed it did."

"Thank you," the engineer whispered, looking up to flash his newfound friends a warm smile of pure gratitude.

"You are most welcome, young Tucker," Koerin replied, patting Trip affectionately on his shoulder. "You are most welcome."

* * *

"Why is it taking so damn long?"

Glancing up at the muttered complaint, Hoshi Sato winced at the drawn, tense face that met her eyes. Jonathan Archer was taking it really hard, not that the fact surprised her at all, given his close relationship with Trip. On the other hand, she mused, casting a quick look at the assorted levels of exhaustion that shrouded her crewmates' faces, they probably didn't look any much better than their captain at this moment. Concern, alarm and fatigue had exacted quite a high price from each of them.

_Well, maybe not all of us_ , the linguist corrected silently, sneaking a peek at T'Pol, who still looked pretty much the same. Then again, not even the Sub-Commander was as unaffected as she would like to be, Hoshi noted empathically as her sharp gaze took in the slightly ragged edge that coated the Vulcan's seemingly endless energy. Somehow, that tiny discovery made her like the Vulcan even more. It was nice knowing that, despite her frequent verbal confrontations with Trip, T'Pol was just as concerned about the Commander's well being as the rest of them.

The waiting was definitely the most demanding part of this whole experience, especially considering that they haven't the slightest idea what was going on in the other side of the door. It didn't help matters that none of them have had any sleep at all the whole night. Although their J'rall hosts had tried to cajole them into returning to their rooms for some rest, no one had felt like doing so. Ultimately, the whole team ended up outside the corridor like they had done earlier in the night, forming small groups and drawing whatever strength they could from each other.

Hoshi hid a yawn behind her hand. She felt, at the same time, completely worn out and totally wide awake. But it was impossible that anyone could rest, or sleep, for that matter, not after hearing those horrifying screams and knowing that they came from someone whom they all cared deeply about. Though the cries did not last very long, she knew instinctively that it would be some time before any of them would be able to forget their stark, chilling quality. She wondered if she ever would.

Probably not.

"Ensign?"

"You okay, Hoshi?"

Startled out of her thoughts by the simultaneous whispered inquiries, she started to nod, but stopped suddenly. 

"No, not really," Hoshi admitted with a muted sigh, closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to make itself known. Quickly pulling herself together, she looked up and smiled at the concern mirrored in two pairs of eyes, one grey, and the other brown. "But I'll be â€¦ really," she dredged up a faint smile, grateful for the quiet support offered by the two men. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Malcolm answered in a distant voice, distracted by her pale features and worried eyes, red-rimmed from lack of sleep. Unconvinced, he continued to stare intently at the young ensign, trying to see if she was telling them the truth. Finally satisfied, he then allowed his gaze to sweep the rest of the crew, resting briefly on Archer and T'Pol before continuing on his unrelenting vigilance.

Seated beside the watchful, brooding Security Officer, Travis frowned at Hoshi's answer. He didn't like seeing her feeling this low although he knew his fellow ensign well enough to be reassured by her words. The Communications Officer might appear delicate, but he knew she was a lot stronger and more resilient than she looked. However, that didn't mean any of this was easy for her, or for any of them.

In the relative short time that they'd known Trip, the Chief Engineer had managed to earn not only their friendship, but also their respect and trust. Running a hand through his short dark hair, Travis could only hope and pray that whatever the men were doing inside the closed room, it would allow them to once again be graced with the Commander's keen presence. _Enterprise_ wouldn't be the same without him.

* * *

"Hate to appear as if I'm a lil' slow on the uptake here but what exactly happened?" Seeing Koerin's questioning look, Trip quickly clarified, "I mean, the last thing I remember was the three of us standin' here and Taelek had his hands on my temples..."

"You underwent the Cleansing Ceremony and the very burden that you were never meant to carry was taken away from you."

"Some Cleansing Ceremony..." Trip paused, sandy brows furrowing as he tried to make sense of the influx of information. "So my telepathic ability is gone?"

"That is correct. Usually we do not join the host within his psyche, but you were obviously too weak to bear the process on your own. So, while Taelek helped focus the venom within you, I removed it from you on the outside."

"The outside, huh?" Trip blinked, wondering if his sanity had somehow dissolved along with the intense pain, then found a small smile. "So... I'm really cured?"

"Indeed."

"Will I remember any of this?"

"No. Faint sensations, perhaps, maybe subconsciously at certain times, but not the actual experience."

Trip sighed. "I guess I could live with that..."

"What is it, Commander?" Koerin asked, curious about the fleeting expression that had crossed the young man's face.

The engineer lifted his shoulders a little. "Was just remembering the look on their faces when I presented them with the gifts that they liked..."

"They? Your friends?" At Trip's nod, Koerin asked, "You read their minds?"

"Not exactly. The thoughts from them just came on their own... Images mostly, at the beginnin', but then words started to come..." Trip looked down. "Then the pain. I don't really miss being telepathic, but..."

"But the ability came in handy at the time, did it not?" Koerin smiled.

"Yeah, it was great being able to make someone happy like that."

"It is still not too late for you to change your mind..."

"What? On becoming one of you?"

Koerin dipped his head. "Only this time, we will do it the right way. You have a gift, why not use it...?"

Trip considered the words and then frowned. "But that would mean leaving _Enterprise_ , wouldn't it?"

"That is correct. You will need to undergo intense training before you are able to wield the immense mental power that you would posses."

"Oh." After another short pause, Trip shook his head and sent Koerin a shy smile. "Thanks for the offer but I can never leave the Enterprise. It's where I belong."

There was an answering smile on the lined face. "That is true."

"So what now?" Trip asked, looking about him. "If everything's finally okay, why are you both still here? Better yet, why am I still here?"

" **You** , my young friend, are here because this is your place of refuge, your mind's natural defence mechanism, against all that which you have experienced. **We** , on the other hand, are here to help you."

"To help me?" Trip cocked his head to one side, puzzled by the ambiguous answer. "To do what?"

Koerin's lips tilted up once more. "To wake up, of course."

* * *

Studying the data again brought a pleased smile to the tired physician's face. Whatever the men were doing, it was working. With a grunt of satisfaction, Phlox noted that the young man's breathing was easier, and there was even a hint of colour on the pale face. The limp, silent body was still more than slightly warm to the touch but Tucker had finally emerged from his coma, slipping instead into a state of deep sleep.

That was the best news he had so far, knowing that that was exactly what the patient needed to further boost the healing process that had already begun. Checking his scans again, Phlox took note of the engineer's low grade fever. Now that Tucker's more threatening symptoms have vanished, that single ailment didn't worry him too much. Once they were back onboard _Enterprise_ , he would be able to start treating it with suitable antibiotics.

After one final scan, the Denobulan leaned back with a contented smile. Yes, everything was going to be all right.

* * *

He'd been staring so hard at the door, willing it to open â€“ that when it did, so gradually and silently â€“ he'd thought it was just his imagination, or that he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming again. As it was, Archer had gaped uncomprehendingly at the cloaked figure that had emerged from the room before he finally managed to find his voice.

"Koerin?"

At his hoarse whisper, heads whipped around and multiple pairs of eyes looked expectantly at the old J'rall. The weary crew watched as Taelek and Phlox joined the scholar out on the corridor, their optimism rising at the expression on each man's face.

"It is done, Captain," Koerin smiled at Archer's hopeful tone, his heart warmed by the immense concern showed by the people before him for one man. For all their apparent flaws and limitations, these humans were turning out to be quite a remarkable species, especially if their capacity to care was anything to go by.

If he had had any lingering doubts about the Council's decision, they had more than adequately been erased. Now he was even more convinced that they'd made the right choice helping these people out. Meeting the anxious man's gaze, Koerin gave Archer an almost imperceptible nod. "You may now return to your ship â€“ all of you."

* * *

He jerked abruptly into consciousness, almost tumbling off the narrow chair that he'd unwittingly fallen asleep upon. For a moment, the groggy man blinked several times, trying to clear his muddled mind as he absently picked up the blanket that had slid off when he sat up just now. Something had woken him. _What was it?_

Midway through his sluggish musings, Malcolm had his answer when another strangled cry emerged from the lone figure on the biobed. Snapping thoroughly awake, he stood up, ignoring the objections from the numerous aching parts of his body, especially his lower back. 

Drawing near, he looked down upon the unconscious man, a look of mild alarm on his normally stoic face. If the panic-stricken expression on his face was any indication, Trip appeared to be in the grip of yet another horrifying nightmare. Malcolm was just leaning over to wake him up when one of Tucker's flailing fists clipped him smartly just beneath his right eye. Stumbling back, he rubbed at the sore spot with one hand.

"Ow...! Bloody heâ€“"

"Lieutenant?" Phlox's voice sounded from behind him and Malcolm turned with a grimace, one hand still on his face. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," he answered, eyeing his friend, who'd settled back into a quieter but still somewhat restless slumber. "He was again thrashing about just nowâ€¦"

"Ahh, yes," Phlox nodded, watching the young man stir ever so slightly in his sleep, mumbling incoherently. "The dreams that Koerin warned us to look out for. I wouldn't worry too much about them though. They should go away soon enough."

"Dreams? They appear to be more like nightmares to me," Malcolm grumbled, fingers gingerly exploring the tender flesh below his eye. He'd been hit enough times to know that he'd probably be sporting a sizeable bruise soon enough. 

He stretched, wincing as every single muscle in his body protested. Loudly. Although he knew that the fatigue that he was feeling was largely more emotional rather than physical, he was still taken aback by the level of weariness that suddenly engulfed him. Stifling a yawn, he asked, "How is he?"

"His fever broke early this morning and he's making satisfactory progress," Phlox assured the troubled man. "I expect the Commander to come around in a few hours' time."

His heart lifting at the news, Malcolm looked up to smile at the doctor when he spotted the other chair, now empty of its previous occupant. Suddenly remembering that he hadn't been the only one spending the night sitting beside Trip's bedside, he asked quietly, "The Captain?"

"He left just moments ago to see to our guests. He'll be back."

Malcolm cleared his throat awkwardly but kept silent, a little chagrined that he'd somehow slept through Archer's departure from Sickbay. Sensing his embarrassment, Phlox studied the Lieutenant's tired face and offered with a smile, "He specifically asked that you were not to be disturbed, stating that you needed the rest."

When Reed made no comment or gave any visible reaction to the statement, Phlox continued firmly, warming up to his subject, "And I fully agree. In fact, as instrumental as you and Captain Archer have been in helping to keep the Commander's dreams... nightmares..." the Denobulan quickly amended at the man's pointed look, "...at bay, I'd prefer if the both of you rested in your own quarters tonight, rather than spending the night in here again. Neither of you are in any shape for the additional stress at the moment."

Nodding absently at the doctor, Malcolm turned back towards the sleeping man, studying him with a critical eye. Now that whatever dreams that he was having had passed, the lines of pain etched on his gaunt face appeared significantly fainter. Trip even looked rather peaceful lying there, although still appearing very much too pale and abnormally frail for his liking.

The dark-haired officer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, exceedingly weary all of a sudden. It was the kind of fatigue that one felt down to one's bones. Contrary to the doctor's claim, he hadn't planned to spend the night, or whatever that was left of it, sleeping in a very uncomfortable chair. A brief visit to Sickbay to check on Trip had somehow turned into an all-nighter, with him on one chair, and Archer on the other. Neither man had said very much but were content to just sit there in the shadowy room, each nursing their own thoughts and memories.

Sometime during their silent vigil, once Trip had more or less settled down, he must have fallen asleep. What surprised him more than his ability to do so in the presence of his captain was the comfortable silence that they'd shared last night, an occurrence very much due to their mutual concern for a close friend.

Regardless of his opinion concerning how one should act in front of one's commanding officer, Malcolm was glad for the opportunity to offer some measure of comfort to his stricken friend, remembering the several times during the night when either one or the both of them had helped to calm Trip down during one of those dream sessions of his. Glancing back at the blanket that he'd found covering him when he'd woken up, he sent the good-humored doctor a look of thanks, grateful for that simple gesture of concern.

"Think nothing of it, Lieutenant," Phlox answered easily, following the young man's gaze. "Now, will you please get some rest before I'm forced to have you admitted for exhaustion?"

He nodded slowly, his lips lifting in response to the doctor's ubiquitous cheerful energy and the gentle teasing that took away the sting of his admonishment. With his shift still more than several hours away, Malcolm replied with the only answer he had, "I'll be in my quarters."


	17. Awakening

The very first thing that he became aware of was the dull throbbing in his head. The faint buzz in his ears came next and he shifted his head slightly, trying to dislodge whatever that was making the irritating noise. It didnâ€™t go away totally, but receded into a tolerable hum in the background as he finally focused on a familiar sound and forced his eyes open.

â€œWelcome back...â€

Trip blinked at the blurry images swirling nauseatingly around him, trying not to gag. Nothing was making much sense to his aching head right now but he was sure of one thing â€“ that voice. It filled him with a warmth only a close friend could give. It felt right â€“ heâ€™d recognise it anywhere.

â€œCapâ€™n?â€ he croaked, one hand coming up to rub his eyes.

â€œGlad youâ€™ve decided to join us, Trip,â€ Archer teased lightly, his relief obvious in his voice. He chuckled as he watched the recovering man struggle valiantly to open his eyes. Along with his pale, sleepy face and tousled head, the action made Trip look very much like a small boy whoâ€™d just been woken up from an afternoon nap.

â€œCommander?â€ This was from Phlox, who drew nearer, the ever-present medical tricorder in his right hand. After a quick scan, he placed it down and picked up a cup. 

â€œHere,â€ he directed, lifting it to the thirsty manâ€™s lips, who sipped the cool liquid gratefully. â€œHow are you feeling?â€

Blue slits focused blearily up at the Denobulan and the face screwed up. â€œLike an elephant had jusâ€™ finished using me as its personal trampoline.â€

Archer chuckled at the show of spirit from the engineer, feeble though it was. He watched as Phlox gave the obviously hurting man a shot for the pain and met the drowsy eyes, seeing the unspoken message in them. â€œRest. Weâ€™ll talk later.â€

Trip nodded with some effort, his eyes already closing. He didnâ€™t see the smile that lit up Archerâ€™s face following that promise or feel the brief grip of a grateful manâ€™s hand on his shoulder; he was already sound asleep.

* * *

Over the course of the next thirty-six hours, the engineer slid in and out of the black void, and each time he woke up, the steady, reassuring presence of Jonathan Archer was there to greet him. Theyâ€™d talked and slowly, the pieces began to fall into place, filling in the blank spaces of Tripâ€™s memory. He couldnâ€™t remember anything past the conversation he had with Malcolm and the rest of guys before falling asleep but it wasnâ€™t long before he had the complete update of what took place down on the planet.

Badly shaken at first, Trip soon came to terms with how close heâ€™d been to dying, Daevinâ€™s attack notwithstanding, and seeing the faint impression of exhaustion that had lined Jonâ€™s features didnâ€™t help elevate the guilt much. Concentrating on the positive side of things, he was extremely thankful for coming out all right from the unusual experience, and especially for the people that he was serving with on the ship. It was a humbling experience in itself.

Due to his still fatigued state, their talks were brief, and sometimes heâ€™d fall asleep in the middle of their conversations, but when he did, he did so without any fears or reservations, comforted by the presence of someone he trusted implicitly. After the first few times, and helped along by Phloxâ€™s medication, Tripâ€™s body soon adjusted as he gradually recovered his strength.

The next time he woke up, Archer wasnâ€™t there anymore but there were several bodies in front of him, apparently engaged in a serious conversation. His ears pricked up as soon as he heard his name among the generally incoherent murmurs and he frowned. If there was one thing he hated more than people talking behind his back, it was that they were speaking about him right in front of him.

â€œWould you three quit talkinâ€™ â€™bout me like Iâ€™m not here?â€

The three in question turned at the low, raspy complaint, identical smiles lighting up their faces as they looked into a pair of pain-clouded eyes. Obviously irritated, the drowsy owner was trying his best to glare at them, but not succeeding too well, owing to the fact that he was still having trouble focusing properly.

â€œHey, Commander! Glad to see youâ€˜re awake.â€

Wincing at Travisâ€™s exuberant greeting, Trip closed his eyes against the pounding in his head. And heâ€™d thought Phloxâ€™s cheerfulness was bad, remembering the doctorâ€™s jovial manner when heâ€™d relayed his gratitude and thanks to the Denobulan physician for everything heâ€™d done during the past two weeks.

â€œThanks, Travis.â€ Trip lifted the fingers of one hand in greeting, finally managing to get his tongue unstuck from the roof of his mouth long enough to rasp out a reply. â€œNice tâ€™see you too.â€

â€œYou look terrible.â€

Cracking an eye open at the sound of a feminine voice, he flashed Hoshi a weak version of his usual charming grin. â€œAnd I still say you jusâ€™ want me for my looks...â€

â€œHah...! you should be so lucky,â€ she retorted with a wide smile. She waited until Malcolm and Travis had raised him into a sitting position before handing the thirsty man a glass of water, smiling at the look of bliss on the Commanderâ€™s face as he slowly finished the cool liquid.

â€œThanks, and I am... lucky, that is,â€ Trip said solemnly, all at once entirely serious. The Chief Engineerâ€™s abrupt shift in mood wasnâ€™t lost on his friends and they waited silently as he collected his thoughts, his long fingers absentmindedly playing with the now empty glass.

â€œI jusâ€™ wanna say thank you for your support, for everything...â€ Trip continued after a moment, sending them a shy smile. â€œNo one couldâ€™ve asked for better friends, or crewmates.â€

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Hoshi met the steady gaze, seeing all the gratitude that heâ€™d been unable to put into words clearly expressed in their blue depths. Returning Tripâ€™s smile with a shaky one of her own, she answered for the three of them, â€œYouâ€™re welcome, Commander.â€

â€œItâ€™s Trip. Iâ€™m off duty, remember...?â€ he corrected absently, his attention already somewhere else.

â€œWhat? What is it?â€ Malcolm asked, suddenly wary at the intense blue stare that was presently leveled at his face.

â€œWhat happened tâ€™yer eye?â€

Tripâ€™s innocent question earned him a baleful glare from the Armoury Officer. Confused, he peered closer at his obviously irritated friend. â€œWhat?â€

Hearing sniggers and muffled laughter coming from the two younger ones, Trip turned narrowed eyes at them. â€œHoshi? Travis? Is there something I should know?â€

â€œApparently you have a killer right hook, Commander...â€ Mayweather finally managed with a drunken grin.

â€œA killer right hook...â€ Trip trailed off, his eyes widening as the implication of the Helm Officerâ€™s words hit him.

â€œIt was me? I did that?!â€ he asked incredulously, staring at the dark-haired man. â€œBut how?â€

â€œThatâ€™s what weâ€™ve been trying to find out! All Doctor Phlox would tell us is that you caused it with your right fist,â€ Hoshi pointed out, giving the Armoury Officer a measured look. She turned and grinned at Trip. â€œPerhaps you could dig the particulars out from him...â€

â€œMe? Why me?â€

â€œThereâ€™ll be no digging of any sort, thank you very much,â€ Malcolm interjected stiffly before Hoshi could reply, ignoring the blatant amusement of his fellow crewmates. Even Trip was finding the whole thing rather humourous, if the grin was beginning to form on his face was any indication; the shock of finding out that he was the actual cause of the bruise was evidently being very speedily replaced by the manâ€™s legendary curiosity.

Trip cocked his head to one side. â€œMalcolm?â€

And as much as he enjoyed seeing some measure of colour on his friendâ€™s face, Malcolm wasnâ€™t sure he wanted to go into the embarrassing details right now. â€œIâ€™d rather not talk about that, if the three of you donâ€™t mind.â€

â€œBut...â€ Trip began.

â€œNo.â€

Undeterred by the brusque tone, Trip gave him a pleading look. â€œAww, Mal... Câ€™mon...â€

Gritting his teeth, Malcolm cursed his friendâ€™s ability to effectively portray a kicked puppy â€“ a proverbial look that had landed him into trouble more times than he cared to remember. Steadfastly refusing to meet Tripâ€™s eyes, Malcolm glared the other two miscreants instead, who were looking expectantly at him while trying their best to keep their smiles from showing. _Trying... Hah!_

Before the Lieutenant could muster a suitable reply that wouldnâ€™t land him in the brig for a month, a cool voice broke into the hilarity of the group.

â€œIt is good to see you awake, Commander.â€

Trip turned towards the door, a smile lighting up his handsome face at the sight of the newcomer walking towards them. Malcolm puffed out a discreet breath of relief, glad for the timely interruption. Heâ€™d never been so happy to see the Sub-Commander than this very moment. _Excellent timing, Sub-Commander, my dignity owes you one._

â€œHey, Tâ€™Pol. Thanks.â€

â€œHow are you?â€

â€œBetter,â€ Trip admitted with a low sigh. â€œI still have a slight headache but Iâ€™m hoping that itâ€™ll go away soon.â€ He sneezed suddenly, looking slightly startled by what he just did. Sniffling, he shot Tâ€™Pol and the rest of his friends a wry look. â€œErr... And I think I might have jusâ€™ caught a cold...â€

One delicate brow lifted. â€œI am sure the doctor will be able to help with that.â€

â€œIâ€™m sure that I will,â€ piped up a new voice and Trip looked past the slim Vulcan to see Phlox beaming down at him, this time with the medical tricorder in one hand and a hypospray in the other. â€œItâ€™s time for your medication, Commander.â€

Staring bemusedly at the physician, Trip wondered how the Denobulan always managed to pop up as he did. 

â€œOne day, Iâ€™m gonna find out exactly how he does that,â€ the engineer grumbled darkly under his breath. Catching sight Tâ€™Polâ€™s raised eyebrow, he flushed, realising that she must have overheard his muttered comment. However, he couldnâ€™t resist baiting her, and asked with a cheeky grin, â€œSmâ€™thing I can do for you, Sub-Commander?â€

Although no one caught Tâ€™Polâ€™s answer, the last thing the three friends heard as they were unceremoniously herded out of Sickbay by Phlox was Tripâ€™s indignant bellow of â€˜Whatâ€™s that sâ€™pposed to mean?!â€™. Exchanging grins, they carried on towards the bridge for their shift.

Yes, it was good to have him back.

* * *

â€œCome again?â€

â€œYou, Commander, have the flu.â€

â€œWhat?! But how is that possible?â€ Trip groaned, burying his head in his hands. This was not happening to him. 

Heâ€™d fought off a high fever, recovered from a bout with bronchitis and had just survived a severe case of pneumonia. He **refused** have the damned flu. He was about to dispute Phloxâ€™s diagnosis when he sneezed hard. All right, he conceded bleakly, blowing his nose, perhaps he was a little sick. But only a little... right? 

As if to lay false to his claim, another series of sneezes overtook him. His eyes watered. 

Okay. Well, maybe he was more than a little sick. _Damnâ€“_

Archer winced sympathetically as Tripâ€™s lean body shook with every sneeze, knowing how much the young officer hated being ill. And if the runny eyes, red nose and the hoarse, rasping quality of the Chief Engineerâ€™s voice was anything to go by, this flu was a bad one. 

Leaning back in his chair, the captain prepared himself to enjoy the battle of wills about to take place right in front of him. With some measure of glee, he eyed the stubborn expression on the younger manâ€™s face and the equally determined look in Phloxâ€™s eyes. _Oh, this should be good..._

â€œ...Normally, you would have had no problem fighting off this mild infection on your own,â€ Phlox was saying. â€œIn fact, youâ€™ll probably not even have a sniffle to show for it. However, with your bodyâ€™s immune system weakened by your experience...â€ The doctor beamed at him. â€œBut not too worry, this ailment doesnâ€™t post any danger to your health...â€

â€œNo, jusâ€™ my sanity,â€ Trip grumbled, referring to the off-duty status that was sure to be assigned to him. Trying hard but failing to prevent it from happening, he suffered through a brief, hard bout of coughing. Leaning back in private relief once that torture session was over, Trip looked at the man who held the freedom of his next few days in his capable Denobulan hands and gave him his best glare.

The effect of which, unfortunately, was spoilt by the accompanying sniffles he was suffering from.

About to further argue his case, Trip forgot what he wanted to say when his ears picked up a badly-suppressed chuckle from the nearby chair. Ignoring his slight headache, the engineer whipped his head around to aim the same furious look at the amused onlooker, who quickly held up a hand in apology.

â€œSorry... Please, do continue,â€ the Starfleet Captain managed to choke out, trying but not doing a very good job of keeping his amusement from showing. The eye roll from his exasperated friend only managed to elevate his mirth even further.

Giving up on his Captain as a lost cause, Trip returned to his original target, blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Not that it did him any good. Wholly unruffled by the waves of hostility emitting from the man, Phlox continued to beam cheerfully at his disgruntled patient. It certainly felt good to have him back, exasperating crankiness and all.

â€œI doubt that, Commander. Your sanity will be entirely unharmed,â€ the physician responded with a smile, ignoring the stifled, indignant protest. â€œAnd, with some rest and antibiotics, you should be back on duty â€¦ letâ€™s say, in about three days time.â€

â€œ **Three** days!â€ Trip yelped, sitting up straight, his face blanching. â€œButâ€“â€ he stopped, catching sight of the physicianâ€™s resolute and no-nonsense look. Heâ€™d known Phloxâ€™s long enough to recognise **that** particular expression when he saw it. Without missing a beat, the beleaguered engineer snapped his mouth shut and turned pleading eyes towards his one final hope.

â€œCapâ€™n?â€

Again, Archerâ€™s mouth twitched, this time at the sound of the small, hopeful voice. He shook his head, trying even harder not to laugh when his best friend seemed to deflate right before his eyes at his answer. â€œSorry, Trip, but heâ€™s right. You need the rest.â€

â€œBut, Capâ€™nâ€“â€

A dark eyebrow tracked upwards, causing him to stop in mid-protest and Tucker gave up, knowing that heâ€™d just lost this particular skirmish. He slumped back once more onto the biobed with a fierce scowl, arms crossed over his chest. â€œDammit...â€

* * *

â€œSo **this** was the huge insect that bit you?â€ Travis blurted out, looking in disbelief at the ridiculously tiny creature that was flying wildly under the glass.

Along with Hoshi, he was once again visiting Trip in Sickbay when Malcolm had appeared, lugging with him a glass container containing the mysterious _psŷc_. Koerin had generously allowed a specimen to be brought on board and Malcolm was hoping that seeing something new might help to elevate the engineerâ€™s unmistakable restlessness. 

Not that Malcolm blamed the man. Despite his considerably vocal protests, Phlox had decided to keep Tucker in Sickbay until his three days were up, in case there should be any more reoccurrences of his previous symptoms. It was safe to say that Trip wasnâ€™t at all happy with the decision.

â€œHey! Itâ€™d look huge to you too if it flew up right to your face!â€ the aggrieved man replied defensively, peering at the jar. So this was the cause of his telepathic ability and more importantly, his present incarceration. Glaring hotly at the offending creature, the crabby engineer wondered if he could convince Malcolm to lend him a phase pistol. He could always set it to stun. He sneezed, wiping his runny nose.

Or not.

With a miserable sniffle, Trip wondered sarcastically if Phloxâ€™s antibiotics were actually doing him any good, it felt as it his cold was getting worse with every shot, instead of better.

â€œItâ€™s so cute!â€ Hoshi remarked, earning herself a glower from the grouchy man. She grinned back unrepentantly at him. Despite the red nose and watery eyes, the Commander looked utterly adorable in his sulky, little boy mode. â€œIt is! Look at it! It looks just like a tiny golden ladybug.â€

â€œSure, if ladybugs came golden yellow, complete with ten legs,â€ Malcolm observed in his usual droll tone. Trip flashed the Armoury Officer an appreciative grin just as Hoshi smacked the man lightly in the arm, startling him.

â€œWhat? Iâ€™m just saying...â€ he lifted his hands in defense, a dark brow raised at the Communications Officer, who shook her head at him, exasperation on her delicate features.

Grinning at their light banter, Travis bent down for a closer look, thinking that Hoshi was right. Sort of. If you squinted hard enough, and tilted your head at a certain angle, it may just pass for a demented version of the lovable ladybug. He straightened after a while and looked at his friends. â€œI think weâ€™d better return this to Koerin before the Doc decides he wants to adopt it for a pet.â€

â€œHeaven forbid,â€ the Lieutenant muttered under his breath while he watched with narrowed eyes as the younger man carefully scooped up the jar and carried it out of Sickbay, followed closely by Hoshi. If there was one thing in life that he was sure of right now, itâ€™d be that heâ€™d never wanted to go through what they just did with Trip, ever again. Once was enough to last him a couple hundred lifetimes. 

Besides, he was too young to have any grey hair although he had a suspicious feeling that hanging out with the Commander might not be the best thing to do if he wanted to avoid getting them. Just look at the Captain...

â€œSome friend yer turninâ€™ out to be...â€

â€œHmmm?â€ Malcolm turned absently towards Trip, his mind still very much on the hazards of being a certain Commanderâ€™s friend, only to find the engineer glaring at him. â€œWhat?â€

â€œYou were supposed to help convince the Doc to release me, not add another day to the incarceration period... Luckily I managed to talk him outta it...â€ Trip shuddered.

Malcolm arched an eyebrow, studying the cranky face with undisguised interest. â€œ _Incarceration_ period?â€

â€œYeah. What did you say to him anyway?â€

The Lieutenant crossed his arms over his chest and ignored the suspicious look aimed at him. â€œNothing. He just decided that you needed the rest on his own.â€

â€œIâ€™ll bet...â€ Trip tossed back. He sighed, leaning tiredly back onto his pillow. â€œWhat had you so deep in thought jusâ€™ now anyway? Somethinâ€™ wrong?â€

â€œNo, just thinking.â€

â€œâ€™Bout what?â€

â€œPremature grey strands.â€

â€œHuh?â€ Confused by the sudden change of subject matter, Trip frowned up at the distracted look on his friendâ€™s face. â€œMalcolm?â€

â€œWhatâ€™s your opinion on hair dye, Commander?â€

* * *

â€œPlease,â€ Archer invited once the food was served, smiling at Koerin and Taelek. Accepting the invitation three days ago to visit Enterprise while they waited for the recovering man to regain consciousness, the Jâ€™ralls were now seated at the Captainâ€™s Mess, along with Tâ€™Pol, Trip and Malcolm.

With quiet enthusiasm, they dug in, and the meal passed pleasantly, punctuated by frequent bursts of laughter. It wasnâ€™t until the desserts came that Archer turned towards Koerin. â€œAbout what we discussed yesterday, thereâ€™s no way we could change your mind?â€

At his peripheral vision, he saw the slight rise of Tâ€™Polâ€™s eyebrow but ignored her reaction; he knew what sheâ€™d thought of his request. Trip and Malcolmâ€™s identical looks of confusion were a different matter altogether and Archer turned towards them, saying, â€œI asked Koerin yesterday if his people would reconsider their strict privacy policy as they could really helpâ€“â€œ

â€œIâ€™m sorry, Captain,â€ Koerin interjected gently before the younger man could go on any further. â€œBut like I said yesterday, we prefer not to interfere with anotherâ€™s affair, for we wish the same courtesy on our society. We would just like to be left alone.â€

Archerâ€™s reluctant nod at Koerinâ€™s request only vaguely registering, Trip stared hard at one of the two men whoâ€™d saved his life, a slight frown marring the smoothness of his forehead. Despite feeling a little under the weather, he was well enough to read between the lines of the old Jâ€™rallâ€™s speech. â€œWe wonâ€™t be seeinâ€™ any of you again, would we?â€ he asked in a low voice.

From his side of the table, Koerin considered his answer, studying the officer who, in his own unique way, had become rather special to him, thanks to their recent experience together. This unusual encounter was almost enough to make him wish that their current political administration and practices were different. However, he knew that one manâ€™s opinion would hardly make a dent on a practice that has been in use for the past two thousand years. 

His deep baritone voice was tinged with regret as he answered, â€œNo, I am afraid not, young Tucker, but who is to say what the future may hold, hmm...?â€

* * *

â€œGoodbye, Lieutenant Reed. And thank you. I have enjoyed your stories tremendously.â€

â€œIt was a pleasure, Taelek. And thank you... I donâ€™t believe Iâ€™ve ever shared so much of my childhood memories before. It has been a while since Iâ€™ve even thought about them.â€

â€œYou should do it more often then.â€

â€œI will, Taelek. Thanks.â€

â€œI have enjoyed all of our discussions, Sub-Commander, brief though each of them might had been.â€

â€œThey have certainly been enlightening, Koerin. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.â€

Giving Tâ€™Pol a low bow and a warm smile, Koerin then turned his attention towards the remaining two members of the group of officers who were down on the planet with them. He did not wish to keep them any longer than necessary, knowing how uncomfortable their people were about strangers down on the planet, even strangers whoâ€™d become friends in the last few days. Regardless of their powerful capabilities to protect themselves from hostile visitors, they were by nature a very private race, and would prefer not to have any unnecessary contact. 

His gaze rested briefly upon the small transport behind the group. Having said his goodbyes earlier, Ensign Mayweather was already inside, preparing the shuttlepod for their imminent departure. Along with Taelek, he gave Archer a low bow.

â€œThank you for your hospitality these past three days, Captain.â€

â€œNot at all, Koerin. I hope that youâ€™ve both enjoyed your visit here.â€

â€œWe most certainly did. Farewell, Captain Archer. May you and your crew continue to have a safe and fruitful journey.â€

â€œThank you, Koerin. Goodbye.â€

Turning, Koerin grasped the offered hand and shook it firmly. â€œAnd goodbye to you, young Tucker. It has indeed been a privilege.â€

â€œSame here, Koerin,â€ Trip answered with a grin. â€œGoodbye, and thanks, for everything.â€

* * *

â€œSo... why arenâ€™t there any records of these people in the Vulcan Database?â€ Trip asked curiously once they had safely taken off and were en route for _Enterprise_.

Tâ€™Pol levelled him a look. â€œI believe that they have been keeping themselves hidden from the rest of the universe, after a devastating planetary war many thousands of years ago, one that also destroyed their monarchy system.â€

Malcolm glanced up at that, his interest sparked by the mention of a mysterious skirmish which heâ€™d never heard of before. â€œWhich war was this?â€

â€œKoerin was not very forthcoming with that information.â€

Reed looked disappointed while Trip made a face at Tâ€™Polâ€™s answer. â€œI bet thereâ€™ll be nothinâ€™ in tâ€™Vulcan Database about that either.â€ 

He didnâ€™t wait for her confirmation of his theory but turned towards Archer. â€œDo you think weâ€™ll be able to find the city again if we needed to?â€

â€œI doubt that, Trip. Theyâ€™re extremely powerful telepaths and with their ability â€¦ unless they themselves wished to be seen,â€ Archer shook his head. â€œPerhaps when our technology catches up with what their minds are capable of, maybe then, weâ€™ll have a chance but not now.â€

â€œImagine the sort of power that is needed to continually cloak a whole city mentally... let alone all the cities down there...â€ Malcolm murmured distractedly.

â€œYeah, imagine that...â€ Trip repeated with a thoughtful look on his face. â€œTheyâ€™d make great allies...â€

â€œ...or powerful enemies,â€ Archer concluded with a nod. â€œThese things could always go either way.â€

â€œThen I for one agree with the neutral policy that they have adopted in their dealings with the rest of the universe.â€

Trip slid a glance at the Vulcan when she had finished. â€œThatâ€™s trueâ€¦ but all that power...â€

â€œWhich should never be usedâ€“â€

â€œBut just imagine for a second that it was.â€

â€œI do not see the purpose in doing so, Commander.â€

â€œNever mind tâ€™purpose, jusâ€™ stay with me here for a second...â€

Leaning back in his seat, Archer bit back a smile as he caught the flicker of exasperation in his Science Officerâ€™s eyes. Once again, Trip had managed to draw Tâ€™Pol into one of his neverending â€˜discussionsâ€™. 

On his side of the shuttle, Malcolm chuckled quietly to himself, enjoying the familiar belligerent look on the engineerâ€™s face, something that he, and the rest of the crew had, at one time or another during the past two weeks, feared that they would never see again. However, like Archer and Travis, he wisely stayed out of the line of fire as the â€˜discussionâ€™ escalated, at least on the Chief Engineerâ€™s part. 

Just as they docked with _Enterprise_ , the all-too familiar protest erupted from the now incensed manâ€™s mouth, causing their avid listeners to quickly mask their amused chuckles and delighted grins.

â€œ **Dammit** , that wasnâ€™t what I meant and yâ€™know it...!â€


	18. Epilogue

It was two days later when Archer walked into Engineering to find his Chief Engineer in a midst of a ferocious battle â€¦ with a stubborn section of his chair. Caught up in his work, the younger man was oblivious to his presence so Archer used the time well to study his best friend. 

He frowned as his thoughtful gaze took in Trip's careworn appearance, seeing all too clearly the ravages of the recovering man's recent illness on his lean frame. Although he was well on his way to a full recovery and looked a lot better, Trip was still way too thin, despite all the food that Phlox had been trying to get into him.

Archer suppressed a grin as he remembered Trip's less than quiet show of dismay last night when he had to eat yet another one of Phlox's special meals, which was specially prepared with the necessary nutrients to hasten the healing process. Only the promise of a swift return to duty prevented the cranky man's natural urge to rebel, although it wasn't enough to stop the string of curses that had automatically emerged from his mouth. He chuckled then, remembering T'Pol's raised eyebrow when her sensitive hearing had picked up the irate engineer's muttered complaints.

Realising the same thing, the embarrassed man had quickly fallen quiet, but that didn't stop him from shooting the Denobulan physician dark looks throughout the meal. Not that the rest of them at the Captain's Mess had escaped unscathed â€“ even he received his fair share of the famous Tucker glare, especially when Trip spotted the smile that he'd failed to conceal on time. 

Malcolm almost choked on his soup when he caught sight of the glare that was aimed at the amused Captain by the annoyed engineer. It took several poundings on his back before Reed could stop coughing, and by then Trip had totally forgotten all about his own complaints, distracted by his concern for his red-faced friend.

Overall, it had been a thoroughly enjoyable meal.

"You're jus' gonna stand there the whole day?"

The soft drawl drew him from his thoughts and Archer eyed the many pieces of dismantled furniture on the floor surrounding the Commander for a couple of seconds. "You were supposed to be taking things easy..." he reminded the engineer.

"But I am takin' things easy!" Trip protested, a little indignantly. At the sight of a brow raised sceptically back at him, he swiftly amended with a sheepish look. "Well, it started off easy enough..."

Archer shook his head, eyes crinkling in mirth as he allowed the smile to emerge. Phlox was going to have the still recovering man's hide for this. Watching as the engineer struggled with a particular difficult section, he commented wryly, "That wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I asked you to take a look at it, Trip."

"Really? You know, Cap'n, it feels really good not being able to know what anyone's thinking right now," the young man countered with a contented grin, earning a laugh from his superior officer.

"Don't overdo it, okay? You're still recovering."

Trip nodded, recognising the concern beneath the mild tone. He grinned disarmingly, sending out an unspoken message with his eyes along with a verbal one. "Don't worry, I won't."

Archer acknowledged his best friend's silent thank you with an answering smile. _Anytime, Trip. Anytime._

He continued to watch the nimble fingers fly about, deftly putting of the scattered parts together for a few minutes more, before turning to leave. A thought occurred, and Archer paused at the doorway. "And, Trip..."

The dark blond head lifted, distracted eyes turning inquisitive. "Yeah?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like my chair back, in one piece no less, by start of my next shiftâ€¦"

Trip grinned. "Consider it done, Cap'n."

* * *

"Say, Malcolm, I've been meanin' to ask you 'bout somethin'..."

Reed looked inquiringly at his friend sitting across him, immediately suspicious of the curious look on the other man's face. Carrying his tray containing his supper, Trip had plopped himself down at the table just a few minutes ago. He'd barely taken a bite of his food before the question had popped out. Wishing that he didn't have to, Malcolm asked circumspectly, "What is it, Commander?"

Ignoring the use of his rank â€“ in other times he'd have immediately taken the younger man to task about using it while they were off duty â€“ Trip shifted in his seat, trying to think of the best way to express the question that had been on his mind for some time now. Finally, he blurted it out, "What's with the flyin' monkeys in business suits?"

Startled by the unexpected question, Malcolm's mouth dropped open. He stared at his closest friend onboard for a full minute before he finally found his voice.

"What?" He cleared his throat, staring disbelievingly at the Commander. His eyes narrowed. "When?"

Trip grinned at the look on Malcolm's face. This should be good. He didn't pretend to misunderstand the question, answering it with an airy wave of his hand, "The other day â€¦ when you stopped by Engineerin' after I had contact with the creature on t'surface."

"You mean, when you were still getting pictures instead of thoughts?"

"Yep," Trip nodded and rubbed his chin distractedly, peering into the other man's face. "Quit stallin', will ya?"

Malcolm popped the last of his pancakes into his mouth and chewed slowly, a thoughtful look replacing the previously appalled expression.

"Well?" Trip prodded once more. The Lieutenant seemed to have forgotten his presence at the table; in fact, he looked effectively lost in thought.

"Hmmm?" Malcolm focused a wary gaze at his animated companion, whose face was alight with inherent curiosity and quickly suppressed a resigned sigh. As infuriatingly tenacious as the man was sometimes, Malcolm was suddenly reminded once more how different life on _Enterprise_ would be without the affable Chief Engineer around. That reality by itself was enough to taper his annoyance at being hounded for an answer at the moment to the barest minimum.

But, as wonderful as it was to have his friend back, all healthy and back to normal, it didn't mean that he had to answer every question the man asked. Not that he ever had any intention of answering this one... Well, not with the complete truth, anyway. 

A small smile curved his lips as he looked candidly back at the engineer, grey eyes twinkling. "Monkeys in business suits, huh?"

"Uh huh..." Trip answered guardedly, not buying the wide-eyed, innocent look for one single moment. The man was definitely up to something.

Malcolm stood up, preparing to leave the Mess Hall. "Well, when I came to see you, I was thinking that you'd probably be... uh... up to some monkey business..."

"What?" Standing up as well, Trip demanded, "Then what 'bout the flying part?"

Malcolm met exasperated eyes. Without missing a beat, he deadpanned, "We're currently on a starship..." He paused for effect, "And in deep space, aren't we?"

Using the opportunity, while Trip was momentary speechless from his surprise, Malcolm favoured his friend with a small smile and dipped his head slightly. "Good night, Commander."

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and made for the door. Watching the fast disappearing figure of the Armoury Officer with a dubious expression on his face, Trip sat down and quickly gulped down the rest of his supper. He then proceeded to hurry after the enigmatic lieutenant, much to the amusement of those eating there, who'd pretty given up the pretense of eating and were openly listening to the fascinating conversation between the two senior officers. They could still hear the engineer as his long-legged strides took him away from the Mess Hall, some feeling incredibly hard pressed not to follow just so that they could hear the answer to the question that was being asked.

"Hey, Malcolm, wait up...! You were kiddin', right...? Right...? Hello...? Mal...?"

 

**The End**


End file.
